Hiruzen Monogatari
by ProfessorPalmarosa
Summary: Hiruzen Monogatari is a light novel that takes place shortly after the death of the Second Hokage and chronicles the earliest days of Sarutobi Hiruzen's reign as Third Hokage. Hiruzen faces not only jealousy from his old sensei's nephew, but quickly starts to notice the strain this has placed on his longest-lasting and most treasured friendship. Sequel to Kazusa Densetsu
1. The Valley in the Shadow of Death

Eight hours. They'd been at it for _eight unforgiving hours_. His heart refused to slow down and the whole world felt like it was spinning. Just a few moments, even a handful of seconds, and there would no longer be time to stop and catch his breath.

War—the thing the First Hokage tried his whole life to avoid—had finally come to claim the first generation of villagers.

Danzō wondered if perhaps it was inevitable. The only thing the village succeeded in doing was building warfare on a grander, more terrifying scale than ever before. It wasn't the Shimura Clan against the Hagoromo Clan anymore. It was the whole of the Hidden Leaf going up against the whole of the Hidden Cloud and Hidden Stone. What once would have been limited to about two hundred to a thousand warm bodies per skirmish hit exponential values. It was thousands…tens of thousands…_hundreds _of thousands...

'_Where are they? Did I lose visual?' _He chased a Kumo kunoichi into the heart of the wilderness, knowing there had to be several more not too far away. And yet everything had grown deathly still.

The leaves rustled and a silhouette darted through the trees. Before he could bring himself to stand, an onslaught of kunai and shuriken rushed toward him. Adrenaline kicked in and he jumped out of the way just in time. A split second longer and his teammates would have found his impaled body hiding behind a bush.

The woods were surrounded by mountains on all sides, leaving the forest deathly quiet. No birds chirped. No frogs croaked. Although it was early spring, no sign of any sort of life other than insects and shinobi were nearby.

The head of the Yamanaka Clan once told Danzō about his clan's old woods and how quiet they used to be. Those woods were littered with the hanging corpses of all who trespassed. This wasn't the same forest, but the same sordid miasma permeated the air. The silence was so thick that he feared he'd choke on it. No one else was near.

'_We're on our own. Shit...shit...' _Where the hell _was_ everyone!?

The silence broke for something far more hellish: a mass explosion. Upon detonation, the earth left behind a crater: yet another scar on this marred, already ruined world. Along with the hurled weapons, large and sharp pieces of displaced wood flew in all directions.

Danzō wanted to move, but his feet were stuck in place. His brain reacted, but his body didn't. A large tree trunk fell beside him, and he realized this was it. _This_ was how he would die. His shut his eyes, took a deep breath—

But someone grabbed him, pulling him out of harm's way.

It took a while for Danzō to open his eyes again. When he did, he quickly realized that his savior was none other than Sarutobi Hiruzen: his best friend, his rival, and the source of all his envy. Hiruzen had draped his startled friend's left arm around his shoulders. Concern was rampant on his face. "Are you okay, Danzō?!"

'_Why are you looking at me like that? I'm fine!' _

Why did it always have to turn out like this? Why was it that even though Hiruzen was the one who sought out trouble, it always seemed to find him instead? And when it did, Hiruzen never failed to jump out of the shadows and save the day. Forever the hero. Forever the golden boy.

It used to be admirable. Now it was just pissing him off.

"That's overdoing it, Hiruzen!" He shoved his friend off him. It was a miracle no part of him had been injured. Only his most important thing, his pride, had suffered a blow.

Hiruzen bit back a laugh and brushed some of the dust off his outfit. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that!" Did this amuse him? Was his friend's hurt pride a source of amusement to him? "At a time like this, we can't afford to lose any comrades. Right?"

Danzō huffed in response, letting all the bad air out of his mouth and nose as a frustrated sigh. Since this was for the sake of the squad and not just himself, it wasn't worth it to argue. Annoying as it was, Hiruzen had made the right call in saving him from the explosion. He just wished he hadn't made such a big deal over it: like some hero rushing in to save a terrified damsel.

At least he could see his teammates again. They were hurrying over: trying their best to hide the fact they were worried sick. "Kagami! Torifu! Are you guys alright?"

"Yeah, somewhat," Torifu grunted. He'd been through worse. Out of all of them, he was the only one Danzō believed was truly unfazed.

Kagami smiled at him, but said nothing. Not a single curl on his dark head was out of place.

Another quick, relieved sigh left Danzō's lips. '_At least I can account for my team. We didn't lose anyone._' But now he had to wonder if the same held true for Hiruzen and his team.

Compared to the others, Homura and Koharu were mediocre at best. Danzō had the superior squad, but that wasn't going to count for much. Hiruzen was one of those gifted wunderkind who could make up for his team's shortcomings through his own talents. Those two didn't have to be great in order to function. So long as they had a high performer like their teammate in their group, they could coast through most missions without having to even lift a finger.

For a brief moment, he wondered if losing them would even be a bad thing. If they didn't have to worry about those two being captured by the enemy, they could focus on everyone who actually pulled their weight. The only thing that snapped him out of his thoughts was Kagami's response to Hiruzen.

"There's too many of the enemy! What should we do?" Before Danzō could open his mouth to make a recommendation, Kagami threw out one more word: _Hiruzen_. He'd sooner ask for _Hiruzen's_ opinion.

A fist clenched.

"Let's regroup with the Nidaime," Hiruzen proposed. He'd only taken a couple seconds to decide the group's next course of action. He rushed ahead of everyone else, knowing precisely where to go.

Danzō remained in the very back: putting as much distance between Hiruzen and himself as possible. "...tch."

...

Team Tobirama and Danzō's escort unit met at a rally point beneath one of the largest cypress trees. This whole time, Koharu and Homura had remained at their mentor's side: never daring to go too far out of range. Danzō called them out on that exact same bullshit two days ago. They hadn't fucking learned.

Homura stammered, insisting he and Koharu stayed behind to protect the Nidaime. Danzō didn't buy that for an instant. They wanted Tobirama to protect _them_, not the other way around.

'_Useless,' _he thought. '_We should have taken Inuzuka Kariudo or Yamanaka Hanako. At least with an Inuzuka, we'd know precisely how many enemies are hanging out in the woods.' _Yet all they had to go by were Tobirama's sensor abilities.

The Hokage's fingers touched the earth. He closed his eyes, feeling the chakra of those nearby. Everything rumbled: like thunder coming from the earth rather than the sky. Those low, ominous booms were something Danzō could feel even in his bones. It took a while for Tobirama to respond. When he did, his words didn't bode well for the group.

"We're surrounded. There's...there's about twenty of them…"

In Danzō's eyes, Senju Tobirama was practically a god on earth: a force of nature compared to the mere mortals who made up the rest of the Hidden Leaf. A man had to be truly formidable to hold the Hokage seat, and their honored Lord Second made his brother's ideals more realistic and attainable.

Tobirama wasn't a revolutionary. He was _evolutionary_: improving the skills of those below him by inventing and documenting new jutsu at breakneck speed. Every shinobi close to Tobirama had him to thank for many of their signature techniques. He could drown a man in the desert, his _suiton_ technique was so strong.

But most important of all, Tobirama always came out triumphant. _Always_.

"Judging from their pursuit skills, I'm guessing they're from Kumogakure…most likely from the Kinkaku Squad."

'_Should have picked the Inuzuka_,' Danzō thought again, giving Homura another unimpressed glance.

Homura faked a smile at him, not even attempting to look sincere. "Counting you, Hokage-_sama_, there's only seven of us."

Seven against twenty. Those were almost three against one odds in the enemy's favor. Goddammit.

"Homura!" Koharu's nails dug into her teammate's thigh. "Where do you think such a weak attitude will get us?!"

'_That's mighty big talk for someone who's been hiding under the Nidaime's skirt this whole time, Koharu.' _Danzō kept that remark to himself, if only because he wanted to see where this was going to go. Koharu had it in her to boss Homura around without much fight back. Whatever she decided to do, Homura would do. If she told him to jump, he'd ask how high.

"They still don't know our exact location. Not yet. Right now, we should consider breaking through them with an ambush ploy and escape."

Danzō was about to say that was the stupidest thing he ever heard, but Kagami beat him to it. "That's impossible! Our only viable choice is to have someone act as a decoy and draw their attention."

They all knew it. Kagami was right. And out of the whole lot, Kagami would be the absolute worst choice to sacrifice for the sake of the mission.

As an Uchiha, he was the only one to hail from a clan whose ability could be transferred to someone else. The thought of Kagami's body being dragged off and scrapped for parts by a Cloud Ninja was unacceptable. So, naturally, he _would_ be the one to suggest a decoy plan.

Torifu turned his head away from Kagami, unable to look at his teammate. Danzō noticed the beads of sweat building on the Akimichi's moon-like face. "A decoy?" Torifu's mouth turned into a long, flat line. "That's a suicide mission. Who's it gonna be?"

_'In other words, Torifu; you aren't volunteering, either. It can't be Kagami and you're not willing.' _Had he been in Tobirama's position, Danzō would have reviewed the worth of each person's skill set and chosen the most expendable: probably Koharu.

_'But a weakling could talk. I wouldn't put it past either one of them to crack under torture, which would be devastating for us. This is bigger than the seven of us. This is bigger than Lord Second. This is for the village. Our decision could change the outcome of the entire war.'_

His face felt hot, but chills shot through his body. Danzō's heart beat in his chest so hard and fast that his lungs ached. It was like a trapped red bird, pleading to be set free. He just hoped and prayed no one in the group noticed his worry. It was unbecoming of a shinobi to advertise his feelings for all the world to see.

_'I'm a shinobi. I've decided to die on the battlefield, as is fitting for what I am.' _He didn't want to do this, but he could. Every shinobi had to be prepared to sacrifice himself for a mission: no matter how much he valued his life.

Yet as he had these thoughts, his eyes kept going back toward Hiruzen. What was he thinking right now? Did _he_ have that kind of resolve? It was one thing to throw a friend out of harm's way and look out for the team, but another to throw one's life away.

Hiruzen had a mother at home who adored him, as well as many other friends outside of this group. People loved being around him. He was upbeat, friendly, charming, handsome, and usually good-spirited. If anything fun was transpiring in the village, Hiruzen honed in on it as though it were a beacon. Someone like that deserved to go home.

So why couldn't Danzō raise his hand? Why did it tremble, refusing to leave his thigh? '_I'm going to say it. I have to! It HAS to be me!' _And yet the damned hand stayed in place: nails digging in until it hurt. When he took his pants off later to bathe, he'd see five tiny bruises from where his fingertips pushed too hard into his flesh. '_Why?! I want to do it, so why!?'_

"...I'll do it."

His heart froze, but the trembling stopped.

"Sarutobi!"

"Hiruzen, you—"

"Don't worry." It was that same smile: the same one Hiruzen had made when he'd asked Danzō if he was alright. That smile said it all: if it meant making sure no comrade got left behind, he was willing to die. "Not to brag, but I'm the one best suited among us."

He'd thought about Koharu and Homura's incompetence. He'd considered the risk of Kagami's sharingan being stolen. He'd noticed Torifu's unwillingness to throw his life away. And, nauseatingly enough, he probably shared similar thoughts about his best friend that Danzō shared about him.

A little bit of vomit crawled up Danzō's throat. He forced himself to swallow the bile back down, as well as all his bitter feelings, when Hiruzen's smile only grew. "I'm not gonna die."

The shaking had stopped, but something much worse had taken its place: a horrid realization that he, Danzō of the proud and powerful Shimura Clan, was a goddamn coward. Somewhere in his heart, he felt _relief_. With this one inaction; everything he built up for himself to this point, every sacrifice and technique, was moot. There would never be another opportunity like this, at least not with the people for whom he wished he could show off. Just once, only _once_, he—

That hand was on his back again. Most of it had only managed to touch Danzō's armor, but he could feel the tips of Hiruzen's index and middle fingers brush against the back of his neck. It tickled his dark hair, some of which was still standing up from that frightful moment. This close, Hiruzen knew. He'd felt every goosebump.

"I'm leaving everyone to you now, Danzō. I'm sure you can—"

"SHUT UP!" Danzō didn't just slap the hand. He pushed Hiruzen away, livid. "I was going to raise my hand! Stop acting so cool by yourself! I'LL be the decoy!"

Hiruzen's eyes grew wide, not appreciative of this sacrifice. Maybe he wasn't doing this for the glory after all. Maybe he really did choose this because his friend meant more to him than his own life did. And that was how they differed. Hiruzen's priorities weren't in the right order. He cared about the individual more than the group.

"My father...and grandfather...they died in battle, like true shinobi. Self-sacrifice is a shinobi's duty!" So why was it that he felt so much smaller with every word? All eyes were on him: more in horror and pity than anything else. Neither of those things were anything he wanted.

"Obviously..." Tobirama broke up the conversation. "_I'll_ be the decoy. You are the young flames that will continue to protect the village with your Will of Fire."

Was he mad, insane, or just suicidal!? "You can't do that! You're the HOKAGE! There is no shinobi in the village more important than you!"

And what did Tobirama expect to happen when he died? Hadn't the village already been through enough grief with one Hokage's death? The internal battle would begin anew: with qualified shinobi who felt entitled to the role scrambling and fighting over who should lead next.

So many good men died last time. His father died last time, as had Hiruzen's. It was a bloodbath and the worst chapter in Konoha's history. What transpired after Senju Hashirama's death was even worse than Uchiha Madara's assault.

This was the first time Tobirama had ever made a mistake in front of Danzō, but it also made him realize something disheartening. He thought like Hiruzen.

"Danzō..." Tobirama's pink eyes narrowed upon the young man. "You're always competing with Saru over something, aren't you?" _Saru_. His pet name for Hiruzen. Something he'd called him since their academy days. "What we need right now is to unite as comrades and work together. Don't mix personal affairs into this."

The trembling returned, this time in rage rather than sorrow. His teeth clenched so tightly that they hurt.

"The truth is your decision was too slow. You must first take a calm look within yourself to find out who you really are."

A coward. A _jealous _little coward.

"Right now, you'll just put everyone at risk." Those same words, he'd reserved for Koharu and Homura. This man dared use them on _him_? He was that useless?! "Regardless, Danzō, Saru...there's no need to hurry to death at your age. That time will come soon enough. In the meantime, hold onto your lives."

So he would. He would never forgive Tobirama for these final words, but he'd follow orders. If Tobirama wanted him to hold onto his life and improve, he would do so. The next time he had an opening like this, he wouldn't hesitate. He wouldn't be second place forever: eternally condemned to hide in Hiruzen's shadow. He'd—

"Saru?" Tobirama stood, resigned to his fate. "Protect those who love the village and those who believe in you. And take care of those you will entrust the next generation to. Starting tomorrow_..._you'll be Hokage. Saru, I'm leaving Konoha to you."

…

The Kinkaku Squad was neutralized with no bodies moving from the obliterated field. This Pyrrhic victory came at the cost of the Second Hokage's life, but their greatest threat was no longer an issue. Senju Tobirama's final sacrifice to his older brother's great dream would be Sarutobi Hiruzen's first triumph in his new role. Despite all odds, the First Great Shinobi War would turn in Konoha's favor.

"Everyone's accounted for on the enemy side," Torifu remarked. "Twenty in total, almost all appear to be dead." He reached for a kunai and took a deep breath. "It could be a trap, though. Someone could be playing dead."

Kagami activated his sharingan, scanning the area. "Torifu's right. There's five injured out there. With medical care, I think a couple of them could live. The other three...there's no way. They're dying."

"Let them die, then." Danzō took the kunai out of Torifu's hand and took a step forward. "We only need one of them." His teammates stared at him in disbelief and horror; watching as he recklessly threw himself into the ugly aftermath. There was no talk of backups or teamwork. This was reckless abandon: something they had never seen in him. Danzō was usually their strategist, but grief could bring out the worst in people.

"Has he gone mad?" Koharu whispered, leaning on Torifu. "What's wrong with him?"

"How long have you known him, Koharu?" Torifu asked. "Eighteen years, like me? Or did you know him before we started Academy?" He didn't give her time to answer. "Don't you think that's enough time to know exactly which buttons to push to set him off?"

Koharu's mouth opened, but her words came out garbled and incoherent. She sat upon the ruined, muddy earth and watched as this man she'd always seen as calm, confident, and self-disciplined turned into a completely different person. She _feared_ this new Danzō: this cold, unfeeling, untouchable creature who wore her old friend's beautiful face.

Judging from the fact Homura didn't go out there to stop him or even say anything to make him quit, he clearly agreed with her. "This is bad. Is this..." Her eyes went wide. "Torifu, you don't think this is because Tobirama-_sensei_ named Hiruzen instead of—"

"Say something if you're alive!" Danzō called out, stealing a sword from one of the corpses. "If you are, it might be your lucky day! We'll be taking one of you with us. And if you comply, your life might be spared!"

A shrill, inhuman laugh left his throat. It was a noise none of them had ever heard him make before. "There's no need to hurry to death!" It was a horrid mockery of Tobirama's words. "That time will come soon anyway!"

He kicked a corpse. "Are you alive?" No answer. He slit the dead woman's throat. "And you?" Silence. Another slit throat. "What about you?"

Unable to stomach watching his friend's self-destruction progress any further; Torifu rushed after Danzō and slapped the rusted weapon out of his comrade's hand. "What the fuck is _wrong_ with you!? Just because the Hokage didn't pick you, you're—"

"Torifu." Danzō narrowed his eyes. The blood-stained sword trembled in his shaking hand. "Answer me honestly. Do we need more than one prisoner? If not, then let me do this." He could barely hold the sword straight. It quivered with rage. "For heaven's sake, just let me be useful for once and actually do something!"

Torifu gave his friend's chest a strong push. Danzō lost his balance and fell on a corpse. At least, he _thought_ it was a corpse until the man groaned. "That's not my call to make, Danzō. It's the Hokage's." Danzō bitterly pointed to the only familiar blood-soaked corpse out of the entire lot. "Not him, asshole. Hiruzen."

But Hiruzen was too busy looking at his teacher's body. There were over eighteen different entry wounds from spears, long blades, and other weapons. A shuriken was lodged in Tobirama's right eye socket. Judging from how much drier that blood was, his eye was one of the first injuries. The white fur on Tobirama's armor was soaked crimson, along with some of his hair. Hiruzen placed his teacher's head upon his lap and began working to remove the weapons.

"I heard everything," he called out. "Danzō? If going on the rampage right now will get it out of your system; then by all means, continue. Choose a hostage and kill the rest."

…

Danzō chose the smallest of the survivors: a twelve-year-old girl he suspected would crack under pressure. All they had to do was keep her restrained and alive up until they turned her over to Torture & Interrogation.

Kagami made a fire so the squad could cook their rations. Although everyone tried their best to ignore Tobirama's corpse, it proved impossible. Every few seconds, Koharu's eyes returned to the blood-stained burlap sack they made the Kumo ninja place around Tobirama, and she lost her composure. At the edge of the campground, Danzō heard her weeping into Homura's chest.

"We should have gone through with my ambush plan!" she sobbed. "They didn't know how many of us there were. Sensei...sensei had that _Kage Bunshin_ jutsu. We could have made up the difference and..."

"Ssssssh." Homura stroked Koharu's hair, doing his best to reassure her that everything would somehow be fine. It had come out of the double-buns Koharu always tied so neatly. She'd tried to copy Senju Toka's hairstyle, but never could figure out how the topknot worked. Her chestnut-brown locks fell to the small of her waist, catching light from the campfire. "Ssssssh...it doesn't matter now."

"Of course it does! He's dead! He—"

"He would want you to be quiet," Danzō interrupted, poking the fire with a stick. Nobody else had the nerve to tell the grieving kunoichi to shut up. Judging from the slow nod Kagami gave him, at least he was thinking the same thing. "If you bawl too loudly, you'll give away our location."

Koharu glared at him, eyes puffy and cheeks red. Her lips pursed into a flat line, though her hands continued to tremble. The way her fingers curled like dead spiders, Danzō strongly suspected Koharu was fantasizing about strangling him.

"Do you want to scream at me, Koharu?" That took her aback. "I don't care if you do, but it'll have to wait until we return." Until _all_ of them returned. "Unless you want to join Lord Second. I'm sure we packed a second sack, just in case." The hysterics began all over again, but devolved into much quieter and more acceptable whimpers.

Hiruzen's hand heavily thumped onto Danzō's shoulder, fingers digging into the flak vest. "Cut her some slack, would you?" The kettle on the fire started to whistle, indicating its contents were ready to pour and share. He reached to divide the rations evenly between the six with the small leftover quantity going to their prisoner. "We just lost our mentor. You and the rest of Konoha lost your Hokage. We lost a good friend, a teacher, a second father figure—"

"What about Shinobi Rule #25?" Danzō interrupted. "Hm? _A shinobi must never show their tears_." He craned his head back to look at Koharu again. "_You _need to get a hold of yourself. If you can't even follow the basic rules, you're doing your teacher's memory a disservice."

Koharu threw a kunai. Torifu caught it, giving her a warning glare. "I know you're upset. That's why we'll give you a pass this time. And you..." He now turned his disappointed face toward Danzō. "_You_ need to calm down, too. You scared the shit out of us earlier."

"What are you talking about? I am calm." As calm as he could be: outwardly placid, internally seething. Hiruzen had been right in his judgment call earlier in letting Danzō continue the carnage. It did soothe the nerves. He felt calm again.

Had everyone here only been passing acquaintances rather than people he'd known for almost his entire life, nobody would have doubted his words. But they knew him: from Homura to Torifu, _they knew him_.

"Liar." Kagami exhaled slowly, letting his shoulders slouch. "I don't even need to use my sharingan to know when you're lying. You're upset, too."

"At least I'm not crying."

"No. You're _sulking_, and that's just as counterproductive."

Danzō got up, took his food, and decided to eat beside the prisoner instead. When he gave her a kick for good measure, he at least was able take solace in one thing. _She_ was trembling now, not him.

…

Everyone was at their worst: tired, grieving, bitter, and uncertain of what future awaited them when they returned. It was now their third consecutive day with once-a-day meals, soldier pills, no sleep, and Tobirama's corpse. He wasn't getting any fresher. Not even the delicate smell of springtime flowers could mask the scent of decay.

The last time Danzō looked at the bag, it appeared larger than before. '_He's starting to bloat,' _he realized. '_Another day or two at these temperatures and he'll rupture.'_

"I can't believe I went this long without losing anyone close to me," Koharu confessed. "I still have both my parents. All my friends are alive and well. I never...I didn't think the first person I'd lose would be my sensei."

"Me either," Homura chimed in. He'd grown up in a single-parent home his entire life: just his father and himself. "I didn't even see a corpse until I was seventeen. Outside of funerals, of course..."

"My first was my father," Hiruzen confessed. "After Lord First died, my father ran for Hokage." Danzō's father had done that, too. "But then all hell broke loose. My father's dreams became so rotten that he poisoned himself. Everyone suspected the Yamanaka Clan of foul play."

"Suspected?" Torifu snorted. "Please. We all know Yamanaka Osamu made his sister do it and lobotomized her to cover his tracks. Yanagi was nothing short of a witch."

The bad dreams...Danzō remembered those dreams. His father died in that chaos, too, spending his final moments trying to protect Lady Mito. He reached to touch the X-shaped scar on his chin, remembering what a half-asleep trance made his father do to him. The scar went down to the bone and had taken months to heal. Despite his mother's warnings that picking at it would make it worse, the wound got infected.

"My mother used to carry me on her back when she went to war." Before Danzō could tell Torifu how impressive he found that, the Akimichi continued. "Mind you, I don't remember any of that. I was a baby. The first death I actually remember witnessing..." His head turned toward Kagami. "I think it was your first, too. It was that time a guy from your clan tried to stop Lord Second from becoming Hokage."

"Oh, yeah..." Kagami slowly nodded. "One of Tenjin's sons. I remember Nidaime_-sama_ made him pick between the two who participated and survived. One got a long prison sentence. The other got a public execution. We went together. Danzō, you went, too."

"I know." Danzō sipped some of the hot water. They had boiled it for sanitation purposes, but it still tasted like he'd imagine sewage to taste. "But that wasn't my first experience with death.

"I was five-and-a-half. My grandfather was invited to gamble with the First Hokage and wanted to take me along. The plan was for me to keep track of how many times the dice hit a certain number because my grandfather suspected they were loaded. I sat on his lap, eager to help, and pointed out that every third roll, the dice struck nine.

"So, naturally, he bet on nine every third round and held off the other two. The den owner caught on and waited until Lord First left for the bathroom to confront my grandfather. An altercation happened. Without even getting up or moving me out of the way, my grandfather stabbed the man in the chest."

Everyone stared at him, faces turning white. They all knew that Danzō's grandfather outlived both of his parents. His father was decapitated in a fight when Danzō was eleven. His mother died from a brain aneurysm two years later: leaving him orphaned by thirteen. After that, his grandfather checked in on him once every two weeks until Danzō reached adulthood.

They knew the old man: cold, ruthless, and well-disciplined in the old ways. He'd died in combat only a year ago: back when the war first started. Everyone feared him and Hiruzen in particular had concerns about his influence over his friend. With only that old man for familial support, Danzō changed drastically.

He used to be a somewhat sensitive boy who liked fancy teas, painting, and keeping journals. The more time he spent with his grandfather, the less he outwardly advertised those hobbies. He became more withdrawn. More serious. Hiruzen couldn't even remember the last time he'd genuinely laughed out of joy.

"The man gurgled for a few seconds," Danzō continued. "I think that's what they call a death rattle. Then he—"

"ENOUGH!" Koharu scooted closer to Torifu this time, leaning on him. "Just stop talking!"

…

Upon their return to Konohagakure, Koharu and Homura wasted no time leaving the group to see their families. Koharu's parents rushed to their useless daughter: scooping her into their arms and allowing her to have a good cry. No wonder she broke the rules. Her parents were overly permissive softies who treated a woman in her mid-twenties like she was still a little girl.

"It's going to be weird to break the news to my clan," Kagami whispered to Danzō. "I told you what Setsuna tried to pull a couple of years ago, right?" Danzō nodded. "As many problems as they had with the First Hokage, most of the clan were relatively fine with him. Lord Second, not so much."

Danzō was well aware. The most popular rumor regarding Uchiha Madara's betrayal was that he went on the rampage when he discovered Tobirama was the popular choice for Hashirama's next-in-line. For the first time, he could somewhat sympathize.

'_But I'm not like Madara. No part of me would ever betray this village. If Hiruzen truly is what's best for Konoha, then I'll support him. If he proves to be incompetent, then I'll make my move. Whatever I do, the village must benefit. It was entrusted to me, too...'_

When Tobirama became Hokage, some members of the Uchiha Clan worried that the position could turn into a Senju dynasty. Some even accused him of conspiring with the Yamanaka Clan to murder their candidate.

Uchiha Setsuna, who once held a rank as the co-captain of the Konohagakure Military Police Force (and therefore carried as much political clout as the clan head), tried to stage an assassination plot a couple of years later. Fortunately for Tobirama, the Uchiha head was an insecure woman who recognized her reign would be cut short if Setsuna became her clan's mouthpiece.

Recognizing it was in the Uchiha Clan's best interest to distance themselves from Setsuna and his treachery, Kazusa aligned herself with her Hokage and betrayed one of her best and brightest. Setsuna became her sacrifice: proof of Uchiha's loyalty to Konoha.

But from Danzō's perspective, that didn't make Uchiha Kazusa patriotic so much as it made her pragmatic. She and the Inuzuka head, Kariudo, weren't that much older than Danzō himself. They'd ascended to leadership as very young adults. Someone that inexperienced needed an older adult's support or they'd make mistakes. Kazusa knew that. She made the right choice.

"I'm guessing there's going to be a lot of rejoicing among the Uchiha now that the Nidaime's dead?" Danzō watched as Kagami frowned and slowly nodded his head. "I see. How do you feel, Kagami?"

"Do you even have to ask me that? How long have we known each other?" Kagami was taken aback by the question. "I may be an Uchiha, but I consider myself to be a member of this village first and foremost. He was my Hokage, too_. _I would have given my life for him if commanded to do so, whether I liked him or not."

'_I tried. I couldn't raise my goddamn hand.'_

"Danzō, I thought you knew me better than to think I'd rejoice in losing a—"

Danzō placed his hands on his comrade's shoulders, looking him right in his black eyes. "I promise I wasn't questioning your loyalty, Kagami. Lord Second was lucky to have someone like you. _I'm_ lucky to have someone like you."

"And now Hiruzen..." Kagami sighed. "Poor Hiruzen. He's going to need all the help he can get."

"That's why I'm having this conversation with you." Danzō leaned in, placing his mouth so close to Kagami's ear that the Uchiha could feel his teammate's lips brush against him. "None of us want a repeat of what happened when Lord First died. Let's make sure all of us are on the same page with the same goal in mind."

Kagami nodded, but this didn't feel completely right. In his heart, he had to worry. "You'll have this same talk with Torifu, I presume?"

"Of course. Maybe after he delivers the prisoner to Torture & Interrogation. I don't want Yamanaka Osamu to be the first person I talk to about official matters now that we're home." Hiruzen would deliver Tobirama's body to the morgue. He insisted on being the one to do that, loyal student that he was. Nobody would deprive him of his chance to say goodbye in private, alone, before the funeral. "I have my own task."

"Oh?"

"Don't you think Tobirama's next of kin needs to be notified of his death?"

_'Tobirama_. _Not the Hokage._' That slip of the tongue didn't go unnoticed. "Right...we'll talk later..."


	2. To Those Left Behind

Tobirama's death needed to be reported to the Senju Clan first. The acting head agreed to meet with Danzō in the central building, and he only had to wait for twenty minutes.

During Tobirama's absence, his cousin Toka had kept the Hokage's seat warm. If she was to be believed, she had no intention of stealing it for herself. Danzō wasn't sure how much truth was in that claim. Before long, history would repeat itself and plenty of good-intentioned people would die for this.

He had first seen Toka when she and Uchiha Tenjin approached the Shimura Clan with joining the village. Back then, her hair had been a beautiful brown color: like the polished wood of a maple tree. When the sun hit it just right, it would shine with hints of gold and red: like the tree's leaves.

But her most mesmerizing feature had always been her eyes. They were a vivid green hue: like the jade pendant Danzō's mother used to wear at all times. Jade was a living stone: one that turned greener the longer a person wore it.

Toka's jade eyes had never changed color, but her hair certainly had. That once beautiful maple shade was now mixed with strains of iron, silver, and platinum. Her pretty face had more wrinkles now, mostly frown lines and crow's feet, but Danzō had yet to find a furrow on her brow.

Her only eternally youthful feature, those jade eyes, stared him down: burning with a thousand questions.

"Hiruzen delivered the corpse to the morgue already," Toka informed Danzō, gesturing for him to sit across from her. "And like a good dutiful student; he removed every weapon that managed to penetrate the body. I only wish you and the others had made it back to Konoha sooner. That body...it was—"

"With all due respect, Lady Toka; it was all we could do to keep the animals and insects off him. It took three days of nonstop travel to make it back here. Imagine what condition the Hokage's corpse would be in if we stopped to _rest_."

Toka didn't appreciate that remark, nor did she care for Danzō's tone. Instead, she slid a sepia photograph of the body across the desk so Danzō could see the full extent of the damage. It was all he could do to contain his nausea. Had the picture been in full color, he probably wouldn't have managed that.

During transport, Tobirama's remains had been kept in a sack. When the medical examiners pulled him out, he'd decayed so badly that the corpse was almost unrecognizable. The gash wound on Tobirama's ruined eye socket had spread, turning everything around it into a pulpy mess. The other puncture wounds had done the same. His tongue and remaining eye had puffed up, as had his chest cavity.

"When my cousin Hashirama died, we had an internal power struggle and lost several of our key people. I may have acted as Tobirama's regent while he was away; but I have no intention of taking over as Sandaime Hokage."

So the rumors were true. How surprising. "Why not?" he found himself asking. "It isn't because you're a woman, is it?"

Somehow, he doubted that would be the reason. Many people had scoffed at Uzumaki Mito when she ran for the Nidaime Hokage seat, including most of the Shimura Clan. Most of them said it was because women were more impulsive and emotional, or that their hearts could be more easily manipulated…but Danzō didn't buy into that.

Men were just as prone to making stupid mistakes. They could be just as naïve, just as gullible, and just as easy to lead astray.

Mito was a bad candidate, but not because of her sex. She would have been a disastrous leader because she came from a foreign land and lived a life too far removed from the common people. Very few people saw her around the village these days. After everything that transpired all those years ago, she'd turned into a recluse.

Toka didn't have that problem. The Senju Clan had been in Konoha even longer than the Shimura Clan. Toka was more of a "native" than Danzō was, and every bit as determined to keep the village afloat. With the proper backing, she theoretically could rule. She had the right allies and connections to make that happen.

Plus, she wasn't tethered to a husband or a family. For her entire life, Toka remained a free woman. By all outward appearances, she seemed to have married herself to the state itself. It came first and foremost: a priority that any Hokage should take.

"That's not it." Toka took the photograph back and slid it beneath her green silk outer jacket. "I can see why you'd think that, but it's because I'm already a clan head. Whoever takes over as Hokage should act without bias. I know for a fact I can't do that, so I'm recusing myself."

"I see…" Danzō's brown eyes looked up at Toka, searching for any sign of a trick. There was none. This answer was sincere: genuine. "That's a relief to hear, especially since he didn't name you."

Toka's face remained stony, but Danzō heard a sharp hiss of air slide up her nose. Her fingers curled into the edges of her chair, exposing the raw splintered wood beneath the thin black varnish. From her reaction, Danzō guessed Toka thought the seat was hers to abdicate: that Tobirama _had_ picked her and she was just being generous for a more deserving candidate.

Those jade eyes burned with a new fire. They squinted at him, but refused to blink. "…you?" That one word dripped with vitriol.

Danzō's heart fluttered. His head felt like it was spinning. Although he remained outwardly calm, it was all he could do to keep control. '_I have a chance to turn this in my favor. All I have to do is say __**yes**__ and the current council of elders will accept it. If I do that, it will be my word against Hiruzen's.' _

But then an even worse thought crossed his mind.

'_But should it go wrong, what then?_ _Is my pride more important than the safety of the village? If I made a false claim about being Tobirama's successor, I would be no more deserving of this office than the woman sitting across from me. No…no, I have to be the better man.' _

Toka had been honest with him. As much as it pained him to do so, he knew he had to be honest back. He almost choked on his words as they slid from his lips like tar. "Sarutobi Hiruzen. _Saru_, technically, is what he said. Effective today, he's Sandaime Hokage."

…

"Hey, fatty? What's gonna happen to me?"

Torifu didn't appreciate being called _fatty_ by some twelve-year-old punk; but he was used to it. Being large was just part of being an Akimichi. None of his clansmen were petite or slender.

The kid he was carrying on his back wasn't exactly tiny, either. She was a bit heavy: chubby rather than truly fat. She had rust-colored hair pulled back into cornrows until a frizzy bun fluffed up in the back. Her ears were pierced in three different places: all pearls. Her skin was dark brown, almost black, and her full lips were the color of a bruise. When she opened her mouth, he noticed her gums were dark, too.

The part that would forever burn into his memory was her big honey-colored eyes. Many ninjas in the Hidden Cloud had those eyes. Pretty as they were, they only ever belonged to enemies. And right now, those eyes refused to leave him. They were filled as terror as he walked toward Torture & Interrogation Headquarters.

'_She's just a genin: no older than eleven or twelve,' _Torifu thought, cringing. '_Of __**course**__ Danzō would pick the weakest one in the group. It makes sense. She's most likely to tell us what we want to hear, but still...' _

He knew precisely what was going to happen to this poor kid once they stepped foot inside that building. It's why he kept his mouth shut.

Torture & Interrogation Headquarters was a tall, slate-gray building with few windows. An ever-present sense of gloom haunted it, along with the ghosts of everyone who died trying to keep their filthy secrets. The joke was on them, though. The man in charge of this division was a Yamanaka best known for his skill in postmortem memory retrieval.

Subjecting a little kid to a man like Osamu made Torifu's skin crawl.

He looked at the genin again and tried to calm her down. She'd never leave this building again, but he didn't want her to put up a fight. "What's your name, brat?"

Torifu knew this was dangerous—talking was a step toward getting attached—but they'd need to scratch this kid's name out of the Bingo Book by the time Osamu finished. They'd count her as another casualty of war and Kumogakure would be none the wiser.

"Yui," she answered. "Just...Yui. What about you, fatty? I heard your squad buddies earlier. You're...Torifu, right?"

"Who I am doesn't matter," Torifu grumbled. '_Goddammit, Danzō. This was __**your**__ idea. Why aren't you bringing this kid to Osamu yourself?_' Then a nasty thought ran through his brain: maybe his buddy was scared of Osamu. "You'll be telling us more than just your name soon, Yui. If you cooperate, maybe you won't have to die."

"Wait. _Die_?! I thought I—"

The doors swung open and a pair of tall pale men with long blonde ponytails stood at attention. Both of them were dressed in matching gray uniforms and looked at Torifu with their corpse-like eyes. Even though the Yamanaka Clan were old allies of the Akimichi, their eyes had always given him the creeps. They didn't have any pupils.

"Torifu," one of the torturers greeted him, bowing. He knew this man. He was married to Yamanaka Hanako: the kunoichi Danzō tried to convince Tobirama to take instead of Koharu. Maybe if he'd actually listened, he'd still be alive. "Good morning."

"Hey, Zassō." Torifu grabbed Yui's arm, which caused the girl to yelp in surprise. "This is a survivor from the Kinkaku Squad. I'm under orders to make sure she tells us everything."

"Ah. She's for Lord Osamu, then?" Zassō raised an eyebrow. Torifu's face turned one shade paler, but he nodded. Zassō chuckled and gave a cruel smile to the startled girl. "Oh, honey..." The kid squirmed, trying to move her face away from that fish-cold hand, but Zassō's grip was too strong. His smile turned into a grin: hungry for whatever precious knowledge the poor thing wanted to keep inside her skull. "Welcome to the Hidden Leaf."

Until now, Yui had been a somewhat good hostage. Torifu felt he at least owed it to the kid to walk her down the hall. This horrible place reminded him of a morgue, but he would have honestly preferred the corpses. These poor bastards were still alive.

A raggedy green-haired man grabbed on the bars as they passed. From the way his fingertips bled, it was obvious someone had removed his nails. A blonde woman rocked back and forth, naked, with whip lacerations across her emaciated back. She babbled nonsense in her murmuring. A teenage boy screamed and begged to be let out of his cell because his cellmate died. True to his word, the other kid was undeniably dead: bloated, discolored, and half devoured by rats and roaches.

'_You don't have the stomach to see this. Do you, Danzō?'_

Along with the dark wood and slate floors, some portions of the corridors and rooms were painted in an unsettling grayish-green hue. It reminded Torifu of vomit. At the far end of the hellish hall was Yamanaka Osamu's office. The only splash of color in the entire building was the beautiful stained glass window on the office door: lavender glass with the Yamanaka insignia in black.

Zassō knocked on the door before opening it. He leaned his head in and tried his best to block everyone else's view. "Sir, Akimichi Torifu brought us a survivor from the Kinkaku Squad. We need you."

A loud shriek came from the adjacent room. A door shut. Then another door shut. Then came a much more unsettling noise: the uncomfortable squeaking of a wheelchair in dire need of lubrication. Osamu, head of the Yamanaka Clan, was strong, muscular, and frightening to behold: a Herculean horror. His arms and chest were almost entirely covered in retouched irezumi tattoos, mostly to hide his sordid tapestry of burns and scars.

Back when Tobirama first became Hokage, it was common knowledge that the Yamanakas were some of his biggest supporters. An angry Uchiha, later given the death penalty for his actions, attempted to murder Osamu and his sister Yanagi by setting their house on fire. Tobirama managed to rescue Yanagi, but Osamu's spine was crushed under a fallen support beam. By the time a rescue team found him, he was badly burned and paralyzed from the waist down.

Osamu's burned hair had grown back to its long and flaxen gold glory. His skin, however, remained tight, taut, and pink across half his face and neck. He parted his lips, showing one gold cap among his perfectly straight teeth. Yui gasped. "Your squad killed our Hokage."

"What?!" Zassō's mouth went ajar. He turned toward Torifu and shook his head. "That can't be right! Can it? You were there with him. Weren't you, Torifu?"

Zassō was losing his composure: something Torifu had never seen him do before. It worried him, but he felt he understood why. The last time a Hokage died, it didn't take long for the rest of the village to turn on the Yamanaka Clan. This man feared what a world without Tobirama would look like.

"I'm afraid it's true, Zassō. Senju Tobirama is dead."

Osamu's steel eyes narrowed on Yui. He reached with one of his inked-up burly arms to grab the girl by her hair. He pulled her so close that she could smell the seaweed and rice crackers he'd eaten for a snack. "That's such a shame. At least this young lady will be kind enough to me all about it."

"FUCK YOU!" Yui shrieked, trying to push away. "NO THE HELL I WON'T!" But for all her tough talk, her legs were trembling. It was all she could do to keep herself from pissing her pants.

Osamu wasn't fazed at all. His grip tightened, causing the girl to scream. "Oh, but you will. You'll also tell me the locations of other critical squads and anything else you think you can hide. Now isn't the time to be brave, girl. Even if you die, I still have ways of making you talk."

Yui's eyes grew big. She turned toward Torifu and Zassō, just to see if this was some kind of sick prank. Zassō smiled at her in a mockingly sweet way and cheekily waved. Torifu just shook his head slowly. Whatever this kid's imagination had in store, reality was about to get ten times worse.

Zassō walked over to take Yui from Osamu. He placed her arms behind her back and tied her wrists together. "Which room should we put her in, Osamu-_sama_?"

"Hm…" Osamu pondered this for a while, pacing back and forth in his wheelchair. The dry wheels squealed from raw metal touching raw metal. The device groaned beneath his weight. "Cell 11B should be sufficient."

The grin Zassō gave was something straight out of Torifu's nightmares. The Akimichi squinted at Osamu and crouched down so he could look the paraplegic man in the eye. "What's so special about that cell?"

"Well…" Osamu cleared his throat and motioned for Torifu to start pushing his wheelchair toward the cell. Having his arms free gave him a chance to pull a lighter out of his pocket, as well as a cigarette. "I'm afraid that this building failed its last safety inspection. They said we violated the fire code and needed to make some changes. We did that for all of the prison cells, but 11B is special."

Once they made it to the cell, Osamu unlocked the door and gestured for Zassō to walk past him and shove the girl inside. Yui lost her balance and scuffed her knees on the rough stone floor. Before she could get back to her feet, Zassō slammed the door shut and locked the latch.

"Do you see those sprinklers on the ceiling, Torifu?" Osamu asked. He took another drag of his cigarette and blew some herbal-smelling smoke into Yui's cell. The girl coughed. "They're a modern marvel. As soon as they detect smoke in a room, they'll turn on and try to put the fire out with water. Isn't that amazing?"

"I…_yeah_…but—"

Oh no…the _cigarette_…

Osamu tapped the cigarette against the side of his wheelchair, letting the gray ashes trickle to the floor. "Zassō?" The other Yamanaka saluted his clan head. "Grab some hay. I want Torifu to see our exciting new toy in action."

As they waited for Zassō to return, Torifu felt his whole body break into a sickening coat of sweat. "It won't be water, will it? What is it, then? Alcohol?"

He wasn't sure what about that question was funny, but Osamu belted out a laugh loud enough to echo down the whole hall. "Oh, you're a funny man! Very funny! You think I'd waste perfectly good alcohol on these pieces of trash? Never!" Osamu tossed the lit cigarette into Yui's cell. The girl immediately tried to stomp it out…so he just threw another one. "When activated, the sprinklers in Cell 11B will release Hydrofluoric Acid. It's highly corrosive. It destroys skin on contact and can even decalcify—"

"Sir! I'm back with the hay!" Fucking Zassō sounded like the holidays had just come early.

Osamu smiled at him: like a loving father playing catch with a young son. "Good job, Zassō. Throw it in the cell. And do try to aim for the cigarette, would you? I'll throw another one in there if it doesn't catch right away, but—"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!?" Yui screamed, clutching the bars of her cell. "YOU'RE SICK! ALL OF YOU! TORIFU-SAN, TELL THEM I'M JUST A GENIN! HOW MUCH CAN THEY POSSIBLY EXPECT ME TO TELL THEM!?"

"…I think Zassō can handle it from here," Osamu sighed. "Torifu, would you be so kind as to wheel me back to my office? _Please_? I'm tired…"

Torifu knew better than to say no to a clan head, especially one as vicious as Osamu. Sometimes he missed the days when this guy was so stoned out of his mind on opium that he couldn't function. After the fire, Osamu dropped his old habits. That's when Konoha realized that he was ten times more frightening when sober.

As Osamu closed his eyes and leaned back, Torifu heard a faint disapproving sigh leave the man's lips. "Why does that child know your name, Torifu? That's dangerous."

But things were about to become far more dangerous. Knowing Danzō and knowing Hiruzen...this village would never know peace again.

…

Naori, one of Uchiha Kazusa's lieutenants, was on maternity leave. This didn't stop her from showing up at the station with her newborn daughter. Several other members of the clan wanted to hold the baby and pass her around. "Kagami," the violet-haired Uchiha woman called out. "Welcome back! Your wife will be so happy to see you!"

"I've missed her, too! But ooooh! Who is _this_?" Kagami grinned at the older woman, eager to see the little bundle in her arms. "What a beautiful baby!" She really wasn't. He had two prettier daughters at home, but he knew he was a bit biased. He saw _way_ too much of Naka in this kid for her to be even remotely cute.

It was a difficult time for the Uchiha Clan. Their clan head had distanced herself from Setsuna's insurrection as much as she could, but the village's public opinion of the clan still wasn't favorable. Naka, Naori's husband, hadn't helped matters. Rumors were spreading that he'd gone berserk on the battlefield and killed more than half of his subordinates.

"Her name is Yuka," Naori informed him. "Maybe you can bring Azami-_chan_ or Kaede-_chan_ over to play with her when she's a little older."

That baby couldn't be more than a few days old. Doing the math, it hit Kagami that little Yuka's birthday could be the same day Senju Tobirama died. Some of the older clansmen would consider that auspicious. They might even treat baby Yuka as though she were lucky.

"Maybe," Kagami replied. "Naori...is Kazusa-_taichou_ in the building?"

The new mother nodded and tilted her head toward the office. She smirked at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You're going to talk to your captain before you talk to your wife, Kagami?"

"Before _everyone_. I shouldn't have even stopped to talk to you." Kagami knocked on the door, trying his best to keep calm. "Kazusa-_taicho_? We need to talk. Something's happened." The door opened and Kagami found himself looking up at his clan head.

Kazusa wasn't a beautiful woman, nor would she ever be. With her frizzy hair, strong jaw, large build, and slightly saggy lower lip, she'd been treated as a bit of a joke by the men in her youth. She'd found few suitors, but finally settled for marrying a close friend. Kagami always felt Kazusa carried herself like a man. And, had she been one, he strongly suspected nobody would have given her any flak.

Her office was a bit messy: with reports strewn all over the place in no order whatsoever. She even had an obese calico cat sound asleep on her desk. A few family photos hung on the walls: mostly of her husband and herself. Kagami remembered there used to be pictures of their son, Keita, in here. After the baby died from a fever, all those photos were removed.

That said, there were rumors that Kazusa and Sarani were expecting another child. Kagami hoped for their sake it was true. The Uchiha Clan would continue to be on shaky ground until Kazusa had an heir. Kagami looked at her: trying to search for any signs of pregnancy, but he found none. Then again, maybe Kazusa was just fat.

Either way, she gave him a sharp look before he could stare for too long. "Welcome back from the battlefield, Kagami. Here. Let me pour you a drink." Kagami noted Kazusa didn't pour one for herself. "I heard those woods turned into a death trap; that the other three squads had no survivors. Did you lose anyone?"

"...yes." Kagami took a seat once one was offered. "We lost the most important man on the squad."

"Oh?" Kazusa poured a glass of water for herself and swilled it down. She poured a second. "You came back in one piece, at least. If it was Hiruzen or—"

"Senju Tobirama died," Kagami interrupted, shooting the words from his lips like bullets. "Hiruzen is Hokage now."

The glass of water slipped from Kazusa's gloved hand and shattered on the floor. Even from behind her dark-tinted glasses, Kagami could see how wide her eyes became. Kazusa wouldn't weep for Tobirama—Kagami figured no Uchiha would—but the shock was still apparent. "I think I should call an emergency assembly tonight before an official announcement is made. Everyone needs to know. But something troubles me..."

"Yes, taichou?"

Kazusa tilted her glasses down and looked Kagami dead in the eye. She had very heavy eye bags: a sign she wasn't getting enough sleep. "You said Hiruzen is Hokage? _Sarutobi_ Hiruzen?"

"Yes, taichou."

The clan head placed both her hands on the edges of her beat-up desk. Long dark strands of unruly hair flopped into her face, hiding her furrowed brow and the way she bit her lower lip. "I suppose there are worse candidates, but he's awfully _young_, isn't he? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?"

"He's twenty-five, ma'am. And age isn't an indicator of greatness or failure. _You_ took over your position as our leader when you were seventeen."

"Yes, I did. And look how well that's worked out for us!" Kazusa didn't shout, but it was clear she wanted to. It wasn't anger building inside her, but worry. "I remember what happened last time. Don't you? Friends assassinated friends. The whole village went insane. Everyone fought and..." She shook her head. "We were all afraid of a Senju dynasty: that no one else would ever sit in the Hokage seat."

"I understand your concern, Kazusa-_taichou_, but..." Kagami tried to reassure his clan head. He reached over, touching her wrist with a calm, stable hand. "Hiruzen isn't a Senju. The Sarutobi Clan was one of the first to build cross-alliances with other families, even before this village existed. I know him, and he'll be good at this. He'll treat us fairly. You'll see."

But something still ate at her. "I never said he was unqualified: just inexperienced. I know Hiruzen is a fine shinobi. And it's good that another clan gets to claim a Hokage among their ranks! It's just..."

Kazusa had finally given up on her glasses. She took them off, if only so Kagami could see just how deep the dread was in her exhausted black eyes. Here she was, only in her early thirties, and the exhaustion that came from her position left her looking more and more like her father with each passing day. "Senju Tobirama was no friend of our clan, Kagami. Wasn't Hiruzen his prized pupil?"

"Sarutobi Hiruzen is no more his teacher than you are your father," Kagami snapped, feeling protective of his friend. "He saved my life more times than I can count! I'd do the same for him. The last thing he needs is to be second-guessed and undermined, just on account of who taught him. He'll need your support, taichou. _Uchiha's _support. Does he have it, or does he have only mine?"

…

Mito couldn't have been prouder of her grandchild if she tried. Tsunade was an endless ball of energy: a beautiful blonde flower growing in a garden her grandfather lovingly cultivated off dreams and aspirations. Although Mito had spent her middle age in seclusion, too humiliated to show her face in public save when Tobirama called her to do so, she'd always find joy in that girl.

"You have every reason to be proud of her, Morirama." She looked up at her eldest son, offering her warmest smile. "Tsunade is growing into a fine young lady. She'll be a talented kunoichi before we know it!"

Even though Tsunade had inadvertently broken her grandmother's heart a few times by telling her that the kunoichi preschool program bored her to tears, that could be forgiven. She was too little to understand just how bittersweet a memory its creation was. How could she have known that Mito was one of the two women responsible for its creation? Or that the other woman would never know the joy of having a granddaughter complain to her?

Morirama smiled at his mother and tucked some of his light brown hair out of his face. Mito was a tad disappointed that her son didn't inherit his father's dark hair or her red hair, but Hashirama didn't mind. He'd had a brother, Kawarama, who bore a striking resemblance to their firstborn. He used to joke that his brother got lonely in the afterlife and came back as their son.

"If you think Tsu's great," Morirama joked, "wait until you meet my next masterpiece in five more months!" Mito gasped in surprise, trying her best to contain her excitement. "That's right, _okaa-san_. You're gonna have another grandchild. The doctors even think it's a boy this time!"

"Oh darling! That's wonderful!" Mito threw her arms excitedly around her son and squeezed him close to her. It wasn't ladylike at all, but she couldn't help but squeal in girlish glee. "Hasu is such a wonderful wife. She spoils you and treats you the way you deserve to be treated. You're a prince of Konoha! Your babies will be carrying on my proud blood and your father's blood to another glorious generation."

They were the true nobility of this place: the first family to rule.

"How far along is Hasu? Four months?" When Morirama nodded his head, Mito placed her forehead to his and gave his cheek a kiss. "That's wonderful! You know, the head of the Uchiha Clan is with child, too. Maybe we can arrange something with Kazusa and put an end to all this Senju-Uchiha animosity. That's what _my_ clan did when your father—"

"_Obaa-chan_!" Tsunade called out in her most demanding tone. "You said you'd watch me practice my jutsu! Come on, already! I ain't got all day!"

"Oh dear. It looks like I've been summoned…" Mito chuckled and took her son by the hand so they could both watch the girl in action. That's when she noticed the figure standing by the gate, waiting to be let in. "Morirama? Is that Shimura Daichi's son...?"

Morirama sighed and let go of his mother. "Hold on, mother. I'll take care of it." He stormed toward the gate, arms folded. "What do you want, Danzō? Whatever it is can wait. My mother's busy with—"

"I came here to inform you that your uncle died in combat," Danzō responded flatly. He wasn't done. Before the brevity of those words had a chance to sink in for Morirama, Danzō continued. "And Hiruzen's claiming he's Hokage now. I just thought you'd want to know that."

"Dear? Is everything alright?"

Morirama pursed his lips, tensed up all over, and quickly turned his head toward his mother. "I'll tell you later, mother," he called out. "Danzō and I need to talk in private."

…

The walk back to the Sarutobi District felt every bit as long as the trek home. Hiruzen's eyes were bloodshot from staying awake for three and a half days with no reprieve. The soldier pills were wearing off, leaving him sluggish and tired. He sat on the steps of his home and collapsed.

"Hey, you!" an excited voice called out. He rolled over and noticed a girl from his clan had greeted him. She was a tiny thing: a petite creature with long chestnut hair tied back in a ponytail. "I didn't realize your squad made it back!"

He'd known this girl since they were little kids. "We arrived earlier this morning, Biwako." He reached to rub his eyelids with his fingers, hoping to ward off the sleep as long as he could. "I'll probably feel up for company after I take a nap."

"I'm guessing Danzō will, too?" Biwako smirked, scooting next to him. "His squad went with yours to the battlefield, right?"

"If you're asking me if your boyfriend is okay..." He was about to tell her Danzō was fine, but hesitated. '_I'm not sure what I saw in him after Tobirama-sensei died, but I'm worried. I know he's bitter, but he can't let this consume him.' _His soul would implode if he did, dragging down everything and everyone near and dear to him. "Yeah. His whole squad came home."

"What a relief! I need to give him a piece of my mind later. He said he'd write me while he was out there, and—"

"Don't be too mad at him. We received orders not to do that. Messenger birds could have given away our location." That was a lie. Danzō could have written Biwako if he wanted to, but Hiruzen wanted to cover for his friend's mistake. Danzō had a habit of burning bridges, even when those bridges were in his best interest to keep. "And you may want to wait a day or two before you visit him."

"The hell kind of girlfriend would I be if I did that?" Biwako retorted. She pointed a finger at Hiruzen and tapped her foot. "_You're_ to blame for part of this, too, you know. You're the one who set us up! I swear, that boy would have _never_ made a move unless you goaded him into it."

Hiruzen closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers over his eyelids. He could feel a headache coming on. "We had a death out there, Biwako. My sensei, the Second Hokage..." Every time he closed his eyes, thinking he could get a bit of rest, he heard those final words.

**_"Saru..."_**

Biwako sat down beside him, eyes big. She'd studied under the First Hokage's widow for several years, learning all she could about medicine and the art of seals. Mito hadn't exactly gotten along with Tobirama; and she didn't have a good opinion of him, either. That didn't stop Biwako from giving her friend a hug.

Everything Hiruzen held in until that moment broke past the floodgates; Shinobi Rule #25 be damned. The grief rushed over him and he held tightly onto his friend. He wept into Biwako's chest, feeling his whole body shake all over. This was something he couldn't do in front of his best friend, no matter how much he loved him.

Danzō was right. Shinobi weren't supposed to show their tears or emotions in front of others. It made them weak. But this was the last time Hiruzen _could_ be weak. Today marked his first day as Hokage, not that the official news had broken out yet. He'd left it to Danzō to break it to the high officials, Mito included.

"Let it all out," Biwako told him. "It's okay. It's healthier to let it out than hold it in."

"Shinobi aren't supposed to—"

"Oh, _boo_ to that!" she barked. "You're not on the battlefield. The only person near you is me, and I said it was okay! I know you lost your dad and how hard that was on you." Danzō hadn't been the only one to lose a father the last time a Hokage died. Shimura Daichi died a gory death. Sarutobi Sasuke died in slow motion: from a combination of poison and paranoia. "And I know Lord Second treated you like you were his own son. He loved you so, so much!"

And as she felt those strong hands curl into the folds of her dress, Biwako sighed. She had made herself available for comfort and for confidence to a man who refused to open up. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break past that glacial outer layer. Danzō didn't even kiss her unless she asked him to.

"Lord Second wouldn't want you to cry, Hiruzen. He'd want you to give your all to whoever the people elect as the_—"_

He got up. This was wrong. He shouldn't have moved this close to her. These were conversations he could only ever have with one person: the one he'd trust with his back, no matter the circumstance. "I just need to rest, Biwako," he told her. "Let me rest."

…

It was Danzō's first time in what used to be Hashirama's study. The great god of shinobi made his home palatial and grandiose with a large evergreen in the center of the home. Branches sprawled out across the study, all beneath the circular glass ceiling. They were turned into living furniture: bookcases, desks, benches—even a swing and tea table for a child.

Morirama took what was once his father's seat, carrying himself with the same air and dignity of a Hokage. His brown eyes, every bit as sharp and vibrant as his eight-year-old daughter's, bore into his guest. "There has to be some kind of mistake, Danzō. The people have a right to elect a Hokage. We've been through this nonsense before and my uncle instigated that, too. Even though my father told us he believed in elections, my uncle always swore my father named him."

And judging by the tone in Morirama's voice, he clearly didn't believe this. "You and I both are old enough to remember how _that _went down. Uchiha Kaizen was murdered by the Yamanaka Clan. Sarutobi Sasuke committed suicide. _Your_ father gave his life trying to protect my mother, even after the Uchiha Clan goaded her into a near-psychotic break. Mitokado Miharu had his mouth slashed open. So many people turned on each other, including our clan heads."

"I remember," Danzō reminded him. "In case you forgot; I was there, too." He touched the scar on his chin: an ugly memento of what that deplorable mind-jumping family did to drive his father into madness.

"You were eleven, weren't you? That's certainly old enough to remember how close we were to a civil war. The whole shinobi world watched and laughed as we turned on ourselves—and all because we couldn't agree on who deserved to be Hokage! My father gave his life to create this village and my uncle's ambitions nearly destroyed it."

Morirama was older than Danzō and Hiruzen by only twelve years. He was the ideal age to be a Hokage: mature enough to be seen as experienced but young enough to still be in his prime. With the sun coming down on him, casting light on his hair and cobalt blue robes, he truly looked the part. Regal…imperial…

It was an air that not even Toka had mastered.

"And judging from how you spat those words at me, like a jealous little _child_," Morirama smirked, "I'd venture to guess you don't want Hiruzen to have that seat, either."

"If that was the Nidaime's wish…if Hiruzen truly is what's best for Konoha, then—"

Morirama laughed, moving his handsome face close to Danzō's. "Cut the bullshit, Shimura. I don't need your pretty words. I need your honesty. I can see in your eyes that you feel like my uncle passed you over: that he was blinded by his favoritism toward your friend and made the wrong decision."

Although Morirama's wife took the Senju name at marriage, Haru was a Yamanaka by birth. Danzō wondered briefly if any of that gave him this pseudo-clairvoyant streak. Or worse: what if he truly was this transparent?

"Unless Sarutobi Hiruzen has it in writing that he is the Third Hokage, I refuse to accept his claim. The people deserve to hold an election. And if you want this world to be a fair place, Danzō; then you should want this, too. Well…? _Do _you?"


	3. The Prince of Konoha

**The trees in the garden were so large that one would almost believe they took root and grew for a thousand years. Although these oaks were artificially aged, their branches sprawled thick and strong like the arms carrying the tired boy back to bed.**

**They played all day together in this miniature man-made forest. The scent of cedarwood and oakmoss filled Morirama's nose as he timed his sleepy breaths to his father's pace. Left foot, inhale. Right foot, exhale. A low, deep hum came from Hashirama's throat as he tried to murmur a few bars of an Uzumaki lullaby his wife sang to their child at night.**

**"Not right," Morirama murmured, nuzzling his rosy-cheeked face into the soft place between his father's shoulder and his neck. He felt the faint stubble of facial hair on his cheek and liked the roughness. Hashirama never grew a beard, nor was he capable of growing a full one, but the sensation felt comfortably male. "The fox goes deep into the woods, its path it does not know."**

**"And the flowers he disturbs are where the new roots grow," Hashirama finished, kissing the child's brow. "So he trots with greatest care, ****_trot trot trot_****…"**

**It was his day off. Every seven or eight days, he tried to get an afternoon away from the office to spend with Morirama. Sometimes Hashirama couldn't manage to do so, but he tried with all his heart. And on those days where he failed, his son knew no greater sorrow. **

**Hashirama always heard about it later through Mito, who never failed to mention what those lonely periods did to their child's self-esteem. On days the great and glorious Lord First was needed by his people more than by his son, it was up to Mito to remind her darling boy that this was a burden all princes carried: that a good leader was equally father to all.**

**Though tonight, as he had been all day, his father was his alone. Morirama never wanted to let go. He wanted to fall asleep in those big arms and feel himself cradled and rocked.**

**"We can keep playing if you're not tired," Hashirama offered, kissing the boy's cheek again. Morirama snuggled tighter into those shapeless red and white robes, twisting his tiny fingers into his father's long dark hair. "Who knows how long it will be until I can take another day off."**

**Mito giggled, smiling playfully at her husband and son. "Aww! Is your father torturing you, Morirama?" She held out her arms expectantly, hoping her husband would humor her by surrendering the boy. "You poor dear. You're ready for bed, aren't you?"**

**Recently in his travels, Hashirama brought back several bolts of silk brocade with which Mito made many gorgeous outfits. The way the light caught her hair and the silk, she resembled the legendary phoenix: the eternal living embodiment of the Will of Fire.**

**Morirama loved them both: his glorious god of a father and his divine, serene mother. **

**…**

'_If Danzō is telling the truth, then Hiruzen's making a bold move._' Morirama moved his hand across a candle flame on the desk, slicing the tongue of fire in half. No matter how many times he attempted or tried to mimic his father's _Mokuton_ ability, he never succeeded. Although he carried the perfect elemental combination of water and earth, all he could create were mudslides, not forests. '**_Such _**_a bold move_.'

Hashirama's regal face smiled down on his son from his painted portrait. Mito's portrait also smiled. They hung together, but in separate frames: both over the fireplace. They were the god and goddess of Konoha: the great genesis family from whom the dynastic dream began. Konoha lost her king, and the queen suffered in silence for years.

And in those years, Morirama never saw his mother smile or hold her head high like she used to do. That painting marked a more carefree time in her life: her days as a proud mother, surrounded by friends and admirers. It was no secret that the artist who painted her loved her. _Many_ loved her.

At least, they used to.

Tobirama's ascent left Mito having to flutter between funerals at such a fast pace that she may as well have been a hummingbird in a garden. Out of her close circle, only Toka and the portrait artist remained. Everyone else either died in the conflict or was so scared of what she became when her seal cracked that they dropped all contact.

Tobirama went out of his way to portray his sister-in-law as an unstable, hysterical woman he could barely control. He pushed for her seclusion and gradually turned most of her own children against her. The only one who still made time for her had his portrait hung just below his parents'. On the mantelpiece, Morirama was still a boy: proudly wearing his father's Hokage hat and the oversized robes.

It wasn't so much the title that he wanted, nor was it the fame or prestige. It was the power that came with it: the power to change. '_As Sandaime, I could undo all the damage my uncle caused with his rule and—'_

"'_tou-san_," a voice called out. Tsunade stood at the door insistently, holding a giant stuffed animal in her arms. "You said you'd tell me a story before bed. I'm tired." She always managed to pull him out of his trance. The girl yawned dramatically and stomped a tiny foot. "Come on! We're wasting moonlight!"

"I'm coming, silly goose." She always managed to make her father smile.

Tsunade had a guest room in Mito's estate. The room used to belong to Morirama's younger brother, but he died in the line of duty six years ago. One by one, Hashirama and Mito's children fell. Morirama was their last "sapling" and he had every intention of growing into as strong and old a tree as the ones in his mother's back yard.

Tsunade flopped onto her futon, rolling herself into the blankets and stared up expectantly at her father. "I brushed my teeth already," she told him. "So come oooooon. Gimme a good one!"

"Once upon a time," he began, letting his thumb brush against the smoothest part of his daughter's hand, "there was a world that knew nothing but violence. Little boys and little girls fought in wars alongside their parents and killed each other over the silliest of things."

"Like what?" Tsunade stared up at him with her big brown eyes. Morirama remembered first wishing when his daughter was born that she would have the same lovely shade of cornflower blue as her mother, but the brown felt familiar. It was the Senju in her: a strong maple color.

If he looked at his little princess close enough, he could see traces of his mother's beauty. However, he saw his father's smile: big, broad, and infectious. If Tsunade started to laugh, everyone felt compelled to join in. Her toes kicked and wriggled around beneath the blanket one of Mito's handmaidens embroidered for her. Almost like a pair of alert antennae, her buttercup yellow pigtails stood attentively, eager to hear her father's response.

"Like their surnames," Morirama continued. "Can you imagine it: a world where you could be dragged off and cut to bits just because you ate your food a certain way or didn't look like everyone else?" At this point in the story, which Morirama heard since he'd been younger than his own daughter, his father would tickle his sides and get him into a giggling fit before continuing.

Normally, he'd consider doing the same to Tsunade, but not tonight. After his unpleasant conversation with one of his uncle's former minions, Morirama didn't feel too chipper. "In that world, there was a young king of the forest who wished to change all that. He negotiated with the feuding families and managed to convince them to join forces as a unified front. War stopped from the southern sea to the northern mountains, and he believed it would never come again."

The girl yawned, rolling over. "Is this the same King of the Forest who married the Princess of the Sea and killed the Fire Demon? You've told me this story a million times, '_tou-san_. I wanna hear a new one!" She even half-heartedly chucked a pillow at her father, only attempting to be bratty.

"Alright, _Tsu_," Morirama replied, putting on his reading glasses. "If you've got a better story in mind, why don't you tell one to _me _for a change?"

Tsunade took a deep breath, cheeks puffed out, thought for a while, and promptly gave up. "I got nothin'."

"Okay. Let's try this one on for size…" He took the ribbons out of his daughter's hair so it wouldn't be a tangled bed of butter-colored knots in the morning. Lightly, he brushed the tangles out and gave her brow a tender kiss each time she grunted or flinched.

"A generation passed," he murmured, "and for a while, the King of the Forest and his Queen of the Sea were very happy. They had a prince of their own and raised him to be a fine, good man. But there's a reason stories always end with Happily Ever After. If they kept going, you'd realize that no one stays happy forever."

In the background, Morirama could see his mother's worried silhouette in the hallway. She leaned against the wall, delicate fingers touching the edges of the wood. In the dim candlelight, her eyes seemed shiny: shimmering with tears. '_You still miss him,_' he realized. _'It's alright, Mother. I do, too.'_

"The Fire Demon may have been the biggest and strongest of the King's enemies, but he wasn't the only one. It wasn't a big and powerful adversary that killed the King. It was time. Old age made him slower and weaker to the point where a common soldier in an enemy nation got lucky."

It was pointless. It wasn't even truly war time. And bless Uchiha Kaizen, good friend that he had been to Morirama for all those years. He tracked down the son of a bitch responsible and killed him.

"He left his prince behind. Worse than that, he left his queen all alone in a kingdom that never fully accepted her. Without her king there to support her, she fell into despair. The queen and prince could only stand by helplessly as the entire kingdom was taken away from them." Mito leaned onto the doorframe. "And the few good friends she had when the king lived…they died trying to help her defend her throne. But she never gave up hope.

"You see, Tsu, even when all hope should have been lost, the queen believed with all her heart that everything would work out in the end. She still had one person by her side, no matter how bad things got. So long as she had her prince, the story wouldn't end, and she refused to turn the tale into a tragedy. So she fed her prince on her dreams until he became good and strong again: strong enough to defend her."

The girl yawned, staring up at him. "Did the prince ever get their kingdom back?" Mito's wet eyes were wide in the background.

"…yes," Morirama told Tsunade, tucking her in. He kissed her cheek, watching as her eyelids turned heavy. "Yes, he did. And everyone who made the queen cry got what was coming to them."

…

"That's quite a tale you told your daughter," Mito remarked, slowly sipping on her chamomile. Her feet were covered in tiny black slippers, both marked with gold thread embroidery: twin phoenixes in the Land of Wind style. Every once in a while, her feet twitched within their confines. "Where on earth did you get that idea?"

"My uncle died in the war effort." Morirama could barely contain his smile, and he expected Mito to smile back. Instead, she covered her mouth with her hand, eyes big in shock. "His reign of terror is finally over, mother. You're free now."

"It wasn't…" Mito closed her eyes, flinching. "Darling, he believed he was in the right for how he treated me."

But he wasn't. Mito's life involved confinement and observation, because no part of Senju Tobirama liked the idea of the nine-tailed fox within his sister-in-law leaving the village. For a woman who valued her autonomy and ability to move freely across Konoha, it all came to a halt the instant Tobirama became Hokage.

ANBU, black ops who reported exclusively to him, began to shadow Hashirama's surviving family. Mito felt watched at every turn, unable to look her stalkers in the eye. The animal-shaped porcelain masks they used to maintain their anonymity gave her the chills. The fact her squad all wore fox masks made it worse: as though her brother-in-law had to rub in her shame even further.

The beast inside her burned, but it also laughed at Mito's despair. It wanted out again and threatened to break the seal time and again. There had been multiple times where her children came home to find her locked in her room, painting additional seals upon her body in an effort to contain the growing rage incarnate buried just beneath her pristine surface.

Morirama joined this first ANBU and placed himself as close to his uncle as he could. He heard the rumors circulating about his mother's crumbling sanity. Those words, which Tobirama did nothing to dispel, were so horrendous that his own nephew began to fantasize about his death. Morirama hid it all behind a polite and friendly face, but he grew to hate Tobirama more with every insult thrown at his mother.

"No?" Morirama felt his pulse quicken with anger. "What about the time he forbade you from ever visiting your homeland again?" Mito opened her mouth, but he was too quick to speak again to hear what she had to say. "And when you finally figured out a way to communicate with your clan through your journal seal, he accused you of leaking village secrets and threatened to throw you in a cell."

Mito kept that hand to her mouth, letting her son continue. She did nothing to stop him. This was a protective anger. Just like in the story, the king had long died. Only the prince was left to defend his queen. And defend her he would, well into the end of their days.

"Whatever friends were on the fence about keeping ties with you after your seal broke, he made sure they decided not to so do. Who even visits us anymore? When was the last time your lady friends came by to check on you or catch up on the latest gossip?"

Mito was a recluse: a shut-in. And it broke Morirama's heart because his mother used to be a social butterfly. Like Hashirama, she was an extrovert by nature and the attention of others fanned the flames that made her strong. Sometimes, he worried that he was all she had left: he, his wife, and his child.

"I know Tobirama was my uncle, and I know my father loved him, but…" Morirama pursed his lips, letting his anger seethe through his flared nostrils. He felt less like a prince in that moment and more like a dragon. "He was cruel to you; and for that, I'll never forgive him. This is the moment we've both been praying for."

"I never…Morirama, darling, he was my–"

"No one will _ever _treat you like he did ever again," he vowed. "I don't even care if he _did _name Sarutobi Hiruzen as his successor. Words are only valid if the right people hear them, and _I _didn't hear anything. Did you, Mother?"

Mito glanced up, moving closer to her son. "You can't be serious! You're going to deny Hiruzen's right as Third Hokage?"

"That's not what I said." Morirama took his mother's hands into his own and held them tightly. "If he has it in writing, I'll stop and concede. I would never contest a written will. But if we're only going by what Shimura Danzō told me, it _could _be a lie. We've suffered for too long and I've worked too hard to let my uncle's sadistic little pets deprive us of our last chance to get this village back on track."

...

Morirama met his clan head at the Nakano river banks: close to the shrine the Uchiha Clan visited for their gatherings. Considering her closeness to her first cousins, Toka had been a pseudo-aunt to Morirama for his whole life.

"When we were children, your father loved to skip stones. He could throw a stone better than anyone." Toka's face carried the strong air of nostalgia: remembering a simpler (but no more innocent) time. "He had the best aim, too. I swear, Hashirama could hit us from across the river."

"I know." Morirama threw a smooth white rock toward the surface. It skipped four times before making it to the opposite shore. "He told me that was how he met Uchiha Madara."

And to his father's dying day, he swore Madara had been a friend like no other. That was why his betrayal hurt so badly. It consumed him, riddling Hashirama's body with guilt. He seemed to age faster after Madara died. He also obsessed over the idea of his son becoming close with his Uchiha teammate on his brand new squad—not that this had been hard. Kaizen had been rather easy to like.

Morirama had never been betrayed by a friend, nor had he ever played the role of a betrayer. He felt it an insult to his parents' very natures to behave in such a way. They raised him better than that. "It's how I met Kaizen and Kozue," he confessed. "My teammates."

Though Kaizen ran for the Nidaime Hokage seat, Morirama had not. He also hadn't supported Kaizen because his mother needed his support. If they had joined forces back then instead of taking opposite sides; maybe Kaizen wouldn't have hung himself. Perhaps he and Kozue could have married and freed her from the hell she endured in the Hyūga Clan's branch family.

And perhaps, in that alternate timeline, they could have sat on his council and brought true unity to this place: a Hokage and his two councilors. "I can't bother Kozue with any of this. She's probably afraid of losing me, too."

But the Yamanaka Clan wasn't against him. Morirama was convinced he'd have the support of his wife's family, just as they had once done for Tobirama. "And what about you, _oba-san_?"

Toka lifted her head. "What of me?"

"When the time comes; will you accept Sarutobi Hiruzen at his word, or will you back me and demand proof of his claim?"

Toka threw a stone into the water and watched it sink. "That all depends on what sort of man you plan on becoming, little cousin. I know the village has a right to elect their leader, but can you trust them to make the best decision?"

"Of course I can! They—"

"Even though they chose your uncle last time?" He hesitated. "Mori, it _is _possible that Danzō told you the truth. Hiruzen's a good man, not to mention the son of a good man. Had Sarutobi Sasuke survived the election last time, there's a good chance _he _would have been Nidaime.

"I'll endorse you, and I'll watch over you as I always have. But you must promise me you won't stoop to a level unfitting for your status. No backstabbing. No sabotage. No asking your wife to do what Tobirama asked the Yamanaka Clan to—"

"I would NEVER do that!" Morirama buried his face in his hands. "I spent my entire life preparing for this moment, but I swear this to you now. I will never stab a man in the back. Even if we're after the same thing, I'm above that because I'm the son of Senju Hashirama and Uzumaki Mito. I'm _their_ son! And I have a daughter who someday needs to see me as a good example to follow."

He waited for a response: frozen by the side of the lake. Toka was always such a hard person to read, and Morirama never dared to presume anything about her. After what felt like half of an eternity; he got his answer in the form of a faint smile.

"Alright. I'm on your side."


	4. For Thine is His Kingdom

Homura rolled over in bed, noting that he'd kept a protective arm around his female teammate all night. As much as Koharu tried to exude an aura of toughness in front of almost everyone, she hadn't felt so strong lately. The beautiful brunette remained beneath the sheets: curled in the fetal position with her face resting against Homura's skinny chest.

He had always tried his best to look out for her, even during their Academy days. She was such a spunky girl: an iron-willed kunoichi who wasn't afraid of finishing a fight somebody else started. On their team, she was always the spitfire who never hesitated to call her colleagues out if their ideas were bad. Sure, some of her own ideas weren't so great, either, but no one was perfect.

Around ten in the evening, she showed up at his doorstep in tears and asked if she could spend the night. "_Always_," he told her. "_What else am I here for?"_

Homura loved her dearly. '_And if one of us was destined to die that night, perhaps it's for the best it was Tobirama-sensei_,' he thought. Homura would never say it aloud, and he'd carried nothing but the highest respect for the Second Hokage, but he agreed with him.

'_You were right, sensei: we're too young to die. You knew that, and that's why you gave us a chance to come back and keep the dream alive_.'

Homura stroked some of Koharu's bangs out of her face and gave her brow a light kiss. Her nose wrinkled in mild, drowsy disgust. "Ugh." A puff of morning breath left her lips, causing Homura to stifle a gag. She rolled over, waking up. Koharu flexed like a cat, her bare back visible to Homura.

Even before he reached for his glasses, he saw the telltale scars from earlier battles still marred on his partner's light skin. Each one was a time he was too late to rescue her. Yet every time, she survived: stronger and more determined than ever. "How did you sleep?" Homura asked, watching as the kunoichi reached for her clothes. "Did coming here help?"

Koharu tried to force her lips upward into a cheerful expression, but her sad eyes gave everything away. "I kept seeing his face, but not the way he was when he said his goodbyes to us. I'm seeing the face we saw when the bag fell slightly open just outside the gate. The _dead_ face." He reached out to touch her and felt Koharu shiver. "I know the memorial service is this afternoon. There's no way they can put him on display for a proper funeral, is there? He's too badly decayed."

Homura shut his eyes and tried to banish all thoughts of his teacher's dead face from his mind. Hiruzen was a stronger man than he, agreeing to take the corpse to the Senju Clan for final rites. "He was our Hokage," he reminded her. "There is no way this village would send him off with any less grandeur than they allotted for the First."

But this did nothing to stop the tears building in Koharu's eyes. "It's all my fault." She wrapped her arms around herself, letting her nails dig into the bare skin near her shoulders. Red stripes appeared along the pink and white lash marks. "If I'd been able to convince the squad to go forward with _my _plan, then—"

"You did what you could," Homura reassured her. He wrapped his naked arms around her: feeling her body turn weak next to his. With skin on skin, he felt her heart beat and noted how his matched the pace of hers. "He knows that. We _all _know that." And it tore him up inside to hear her cry.

But Koharu could openly weep in front of Homura without any judgment cast upon her. This was her safe space and always would be. "But the things Danzō said on the way home, and about the 25th Rule—"

"We're not on a mission," Homura whispered, kissing his teammate's cheek. "And he had no right to be so cruel. He's just angry that Tobirama_-sensei_ didn't choose him and felt the need to lash out at everyone else. It's okay to cry here, Koharu. It's alright."

So he let her. She buried her head in his chest and sobbed heavily, feeling at least a little comfort as Homura stroked her hair. "We'll go to the service together," Koharu decided when she finally broke free. She dabbed at her eyes. "I'll need to take a bath and present myself honorably, but let's go together."

"With Hiruzen?" He had to ask. "One last gathering of Team Tobirama before our fates change?" Homura knew Hiruzen's destiny, but wasn't sure what plans Hiruzen had in store for Koharu and himself.

She nodded, though. "Yeah...we might as well say goodbye to him, too."

...

Kagami took careful note of how his clan reacted to the news. It had been painful to hear so many of his cousins and relatives raise their sake cups in celebration of Tobirama's passing. For all their talk of being equals in this village and seeing the Senju Clan as their brothers and sisters in arms under the Konoha banner, it never dawned on Kagami until that moment just how universally hated Tobirama had been among the Uchiha.

"At last," one officer whispered to another within the Military Police Force hallway, "we can _breathe_ again!"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. His student's taking over." Both officers briefly cast a glance Kagami's way as they passed him in the hall. Kagami frowned, lowering his head.

He supposed the clan saw a different Tobirama than he had. The Second Hokage treated Kagami no differently than any other member of the escort unit. The same courtesy and respect that Tobirama gave to Torifu and Danzō, he gave to their Uchiha teammate too. Setsuna's attempt on his life never came up, nor did Madara's treason.

"_You're _looking awfully glum."

Kagami nearly jumped because he hadn't expected anyone to address him. There stood Lieutenant Naka: the clan head's loose cannon of a right hand. Thus far on the Konoha side, Naka carried the highest kill count in the war. This man, one of the few documented _mangekyo sharingan_ users in the whole history of the clan, had warfare down to an art form. But he'd garnered a reputation for tending to go mad at the sight of blood.

People said half of Naka's recorded kills were his own men. Nobody wanted to delve deep enough to find out if that was actually true. Naka was so terrible to behold that people simply believed it without question. Why Kazusa wanted to keep a man that dangerous by her side, Kagami had no idea. He also knew it wasn't his place to call his clan head out for her decisions.

"Don't tell me you're actually sad that he's gone!" Naka jeered, casting Kagami a suspicious, wary glance. "What kind of an Uchiha are you, Kagami_-kun_?"

"I'm the kind that recognizes that this old anti-Senju sentiment won't get us anywhere," Kagami snapped, trying to push his way past Naka. The older man blocked him. "And of course I'm unhappy! That man was our Hokage! And _now _I hear all of you saying cruel things about my friend, just because of who taught him!"

Naka folded his arms and stared with only a tiny gleam of amusement on his face. The rest, he clearly couldn't care less. "Like father like son, like teacher like student. You're saying we're in the wrong for assuming it'll be more of the same with Hiruzen?"

"Naka, you're..." Kagami bit his lower lip to hold in all the angry things he wished to call the KMPF Lieutenant.

"Most of us have no intention of paying respects to that bigot. We all know what he thought of us. _You_ can go kiss his ass with Kazusa-_taichou_, if you want; but the rest of us? Heh..." Naka leaned his head into the hallway and stretched his arms wide. "We're going to give him the sendoff he actually deserves. Aren't we, men?" The fact people actually cheered and roared made Kagami feel ill.

"You're going to make things worse," Kagami warned. "If the whole village notices we're absent from the service, then—"

"Tobirama's distrust and dislike for our clan isn't exactly a secret, Kagami. I understand why no one wants to go."

Both men stopped what they were doing and saluted their head of police. Kazusa's uniform was immaculate as well as neatly ironed. She'd even gone through drastic measures to scrape her unruly hair into a tight bun, though it already threatened to come loose. It was also the first time in years Kagami actually saw his clan head wear any more makeup than her red lipstick and matching nail polish.

"So you'll boycott the funeral!?"

"What?" Kazusa's eyes turned toward Naka, demanding an explanation. "Did you actually say you were going to do that?" Before Naka could say anything, Kazusa groaned. "We survived Madara and we survived Setsuna. The last thing we need is _another_ scandal. We're going, Naka."

"But _taichou_—"

"We'll speak our piece at the station afterwards," she decided, "but appearance before the other clans is everything. No matter how we all felt about that bastard, we need to put a good show on for the village. If we don't, people will talk. Do you understand me? We _have_ to go!"

'_If that's your attitude, taichou,' _Kagami thought, '_then maybe it would be best if we stayed home.'_

...

'_The graveside service is tonight.'_

Danzō remained on his tatami mat floor, watching as the wide leaf-shaped blades of the ceiling fan spun around without interruption. Some of the fan's artificial gust moved his dark bangs away from his face.

'_Maybe the springtime air will hide the rotting smell._'

Graveside services were much faster and more intimate affairs than formal funerals. There would be no visitation, no series of speeches given by those who loved the man the most: only a few statements right before Senju Tobirama was cast to the earth and nothing more.

'_I'm deluding myself. Nothing can mask that smell.' _Rot permeated and invaded everything: leaving its ugly reminders of loss and decay so pungently that it plagued the mind for days afterward. When he closed his eyes, he still smelled the festering, bloated corpse they came home with.

It would have been kinder to Tobirama's memory to dispose of the body and bring back only his bones, but nobody would have believed the bones were his. The Senju Clan _needed_ to see the body to confirm it truly was him, ripe and rotten as he was.

Such were the thoughts racing through his mind when he heard the sound of light footsteps touching his nightingale floors. "Is that you, Biwako?"

"Yeah..."

The petite Sarutobi woman moved into the same room, sat beside Danzō, then flopped onto the floor to join him. "Thinking about the graveside service, I presume?" She touched his hand, letting her small fingers brush against the smooth part just below the knuckles. "Have you given any thought into what flowers you'll bring?"

The only grave he continued to frequent was his mother's. Every time, he bought white lilies. He didn't know what they symbolized, but they were her favorite. "Men aren't taught the language of flowers, Biwako. In this field, I'm afraid I'm woefully ignorant. I'm sure whatever you pick will be lovely."

He felt her fingers intertwine with his. Some color rushed to his face. Normally, he hated it when people touched him, even over perfectly innocent actions like this one. Biwako was an exception to the rule.

"What do you want to say to him?" Biwako whispered in his ear. "We have a few hours before the service, right? That means it's not too late for me to stop by Yamanaka Inoru's shop and pick up a bouquet."

**"Take a calm look within yourself to find out who you really are."**

'_I know who I am. I'm a man whose hesitation cost him his dream. I was a failure then, but I refuse to remain one forever. I'm someone who will bounce back. I'll come back with a vengeance._'

"He rejected me, Biwako," Danzō murmured. If he couldn't be fully honest with her, then who else would listen? This wasn't even a conversation he felt comfortable having with Hiruzen, considering this was about Hiruzen.

He hated how his voice sounded lost and weak, but it came out anyway. "I already miss him, but I was so angry with him when he died." And he still was. It would probably take years before he came to terms with that night. "I don't hate him, but I'm not yet ready to forgive him."

"Danzō..." Biwako kissed his ear before sliding her arms beneath his, letting her hands rest upon his lap. "Hiruzen told me what the Nidaime said to you."

So she knew. Danzō hissed in a tight breath, feeling himself go rigid.

"I understand why you're upset, but is a funeral really the best place to air your grievances? Because if you still want to do that, I can pick up an assortment of yellow carnations. They literally mean rejection, but any kunoichi worth her title is going to call you out on that."

And that included Yamanaka Hanako, whom he really needed to swing to his side within the next few days. These days were critical. If he played the wrong hand now, then—

"I know you're angry, but I also know how highly you thought of the Hokage. Will you trust me to pick something else?" Biwako let loose a tiny sigh of relief when Danzō nodded his head. "Purple hyacinth, maybe?"

"What do those mean?" He wasn't looking at her anymore. Danzō was making his way to his bedroom so he could reach in his closet for his traditional funeral clothes and get ready. The whole of his clan would be in attendance: showcasing their loyalty to the village as a unified, proud front.

"Sorrow," Biwako told him.

Hanako would later inform him that those flowers also meant that he was sorry for his actions and wanted forgiveness.

Oblivious to this, Danzō got up and reached for his girlfriend's hand. "I'm a fortunate man, having somebody like you in my life. What would I do without you?"

"Mope forever?" Biwako teased, trying to add a little humor to the situation. She flashed him a smile. He didn't smile back.

...

Although Danzō originally accompanied the Shimura Clan to the service, he wasted no time in moving closer to the Sarutobi Clan. Hiruzen's eyes were puffy and his face was slightly sallow: telltale signs that he'd wept in private. It made sense. Tobirama had almost been a second father figure to him. Of course he'd mourn his loss.

And yet his sad face seemed to light up at least a little upon seeing his best friend. "I've never been so relieved to see you, Danzō. Everything's moving so fast. I lost count of how many people came by my house and—"

"The whole village is talking about you and the Nidaime's final wishes, Hiruzen. By now, everyone knows." He slid a note to his friend, requesting they rendezvous after the service to a private location.

"I think I know what this is," Hiruzen whispered in his ear. "I agree. We do need to talk. Where, though? Your house?" Danzō shook his head. "Why not? It's not like anyone lives with you." All Danzō had to do was tilt his head to the left to show the Uchiha and Akimichi Clans for Hiruzen to understand. "What about our spot, then? In the woods, around—"

"Just read the damn note."

Tobirama's coffin was closed and smothered in aromatic flowers. And yet, when Danzō presented the flowers Biwako purchased for him, he could still smell the Hokage from inside the box. Apparently, so did the Inuzuka man behind him who tried his best not to gag.

"Why couldn't they get him home sooner?" he heard the Hyūga head grumble to his wife, who daintily covered her nose with a lavender silk kerchief. "Surely one of them had to know Lord Second's Hiraishin technique..."

"Taiyō, dear?" the man's wife whispered hotly in his ear. "Don't go stirring rumors at a funeral. You..." She moved closer, gesturing with one hand toward the other clans. "You don't know who all could be listening to you."

"I'm not attempting to instigate anything," Taiyō argued, though he did steal his wife's kerchief. "It's just...the _smell_..."

'_It's only half the size of Lord First's funeral,_' Danzō noted. Fewer people were in attendance. The funeral sprays were much more humble. Most of the attendees only came for a few minutes, just so they would be seen among the mourners. The clan heads stayed because they were expected to stay.

Each one, Danzō watched with scrutiny.

The Uchiha head made a huge show of being seen with all the KMPF lieutenants, even though the others looked like they'd prefer having their eyes scooped out with a melon ball device than be forced to stay a minute longer. Kagami locked apologetic eyes with his teammate for a moment. _I tried_, that face said.

The only Hyūga who stayed was Taiyō. Everyone else complained about the stench too much and felt they'd done their part. There was no point in staying beyond what was proper.

The Nara and Akimichi heads both looked dreadfully bored and kept exchanging glances at each other: silently daring the other to leave first. Every once in a while; a well-meaning Sarutobi would smile in their general direction, trying to ease the tension.

But then there was the Yamanaka Clan. As terrifying a breed as they had been the last time a Hokage died, everyone lived with an ounce of dread in their hearts upon seeing them. Would Tobirama's demise would be a repeat performance of Hashirama's?

Yamanaka Osamu sat in his wheelchair like a tattooed king upon a throne: holding his scarred and formerly handsome head high as a woman pushed him to the coffin to say his goodbyes. In his lap was an impressively large bouquet made to resemble fire with its assortment of reds, yellows, and oranges.

Danzō chose to watch Osamu with more discretion than the others, all on account of what he instigated last time. The Baku, Danzō's summon, was a mythical creature that devoured bad dreams. It had been the size of a large dog in his genin days, but ballooned to the size of a three-story house within the first week of Hashirama's death. Everyone had bad dreams. Many people went mad.

He hadn't forgotten who was responsible, nor had he or anyone else forgiven Osamu. People still gave that man a wide berth, not wanting to come close enough to touch him. But then he noticed who was pushing the chair. Danzō firmly held onto his friend's sleeve, doing his best to hold back the seething anger he felt for the other woman in Osamu's procession. "He brought that _thing_ out in public? What the hell is he thinking?"

One of the Second Hokage's closest friends and confidantes had been the Yamanaka head's fraternal twin sister. Osamu had Yanagi lobotomized several years ago and kept her out of public view. The reasons why were heavily debated outside of the Yamanaka Clan and Danzō didn't have a good enough rapport with Hanako, Zassō, or anyone else to know the truth.

Even more unforgivable was the length of time Osamu spent talking with the Senju Clan at attention. "We're so sorry for your loss." Those words were always insincere and cold. Danzō remembered hearing them in at least three different occasions in his own life.

"And there he goes," he murmured. Hiruzen made a small noise, indicating Danzō squeezed his arm too hard. "Just watch."

He couldn't make out what Osamu was saying, but the conversation was with Senju Morirama. Whatever the conversation was about, Morirama looked anxious and gestured toward the coffin. In response, the scarred Yamanaka grinned and wheeled himself away.

"He called you a liar when I told him what Lord Second said to you," Danzō whispered in his friend's ear. "He—"

"Stop." Hiruzen shut his eyes and firmly shook his head. "This is neither the time nor place to talk like that. A good man, one of the best this village ever had, died. Whatever you want to talk about can wait. For heaven's sake, Danzō. We're here to grieve! Don't you miss him, too?"


	5. The True Purpose of an Election

**Plump raindrops left the clouds, plummeting to the earth and committing suicide on the roof of the house. It came down in a relentless torrent: the sort of which his father used to call a monsoon. The heavy rain gave off a damp earthy smell, filling his lungs with the balmy, steamy essence of summertime petrichor.**

**The sky turned inky black. Whatever the trees failed to mask, the clouds finished. Only the dim glow of the moon managed to bleed through. All the stars were dead: too far away and too faint for the naked eye to see in the storm. The light in every village lantern was snuffed out, all on account of the downpour.**

**At first, Danzō thought he could find relief beneath a large tree with broad branches and big leaves. Instead, the leaves turned upward, pooled water, and collapsed under their own weight. When enough of them doused him to leave him resembling a half-drowned rat, he made a quick rush toward the house.**

**When lightning struck, the courtyard turned bright as day for a split second, then returned to the blackness. He heard a child gasp. Lifting his head, he saw a small boy rush into the house. Something ceramic shattered in the chaos.**

**He ran after the child, trying to figure out how on earth somebody else could have made it into the home. "Wait!" He called out. "This is my home! Who are you!? What are you–"**

**The little boy stayed in place, arms wrapped defensively around a creature. With its ox tail, tiger legs, and elephant's tail, Danzō recognized it as the same as his summon–only this Baku was much, much smaller. The child hiccupped, staring up at him with frightened brown eyes.**

**'****_That's me_****,' he realized. '****_Around six or seven years old, I'd think…_****'**

**The Baku in the boy's arms growled, showing its claws. It sounded every bit as threatening as a small dog. "Go away," the child warned him. "He eats bad dreams."**

**"You have this all wrong." Danzō reached for a kunai, just in case something transformed. In dreams, that tended to happen far more regularly. "You're actually in my dream, not the other way around. I'm you."**

**The little boy chewed on his lip and shook his head. "I'd never turn into something like you!" The Baku growled a bit more loudly, snarling.**

**So Danzō came closer, squatting down so he could look the child in the eyes. "What makes you say that? Am I really so horrible?" He reached out, expecting to touch the child's bangs and brush them out of his face, but the boy backed up. Every time he tried to initiate contact, the child hesitated and moved further away.**

**Lightning struck again, this time hitting the tree outside. The scent of burning wood mixed with rain-damp earth and soggy wood filled his nose. The little boy lowered his head, bangs hiding his eyes. "It's not so much you," he confessed, pointing toward Danzō, "as the men you came here with."**

**He turned around, seeing several figures he would have sooner forgotten than ever confronted again. Every last corpse from the destroyed Kinkaku Squad wriggled toward him: mutilated, repeatedly stabbed, torn limb from limb by feral beasts in the heartless wild.**

**And his mother…with her drooping eye and her hands to her temples, vomit crusted on the edges of her mouth. She rested a puke-coated hand on the wall, leaving an ugly smear behind. She was the only one who smiled, but that was nothing compared to the figure all others moved aside to give proper distance.**

**With every step, the floor rattled, tweeting like a cage full of frightened birds. Danzō leaned against the wall, noting that the smaller version of himself did the same. A tall, wrathful silhouette stared from the far reaches of the hallway. His heart wouldn't slow down, nor would the shadow's eyes blink.**

**The figure moved as though he were in a stupor, dragging one leg behind him. And Danzō made no mistake; this was irrefutably a man. Even with all the extra appendages from lodged weapons, he could tell. An arm outstretched and the awkward scuffling noise of the dragged leg continued. **

**Danzō turned to the left, noticing the child version of himself was on the verge of tears: shivering and trying to hide behind the protective beast in his arms. '****_Coward_****,' he thought, grimacing. '****_Was I always such a coward?!_****'**

**The doors swung open and the heavy rain paired with a summer night's gale, roaring and howling like a wolf. The rain turned into a full torrent, sliding and flooding the floors with several centimeters of water. It came in waves, splashing the walls and knocking everything over in the process. **

**The red-eyed shadow man led the charge as the other dead came running toward the living. An anthem of outrage and disappointment filled the air, but then came the biggest wave of all. The water reached the ceiling and slapped the child away from the safety of the walls and into this growing river. **

**"Take my hand!" Danzō ordered, holding out his arm for the child. "Take it!" But it didn't matter how many times he yelled for his younger self to comply and give him his hand. "All you have to do is lift it! Go on! TAKE IT!"**

**The next wave hit him, too, knocking him from his feet. He tried swimming toward the little boy, watching in despair as the child started to drown. Yet he kept reaching for him, trying to get him to do the one thing that would save him from a watery death–**

**…**

He felt a cold hand touch his face, which rushed him back to the world of the wakeful. Danzō's eyes went wide and adjusted to see the familiar cozy walls of Yamanaka Hanako's residence. Hanging herbs dried by the windows and the scent of clove and orange filled the air.

Hanako was six years his senior, as well as the Yamanaka head's first cousin. She'd done a multitude of courtesan spy missions under Tobirama's reign, using her clan's mind-reading skills to Konoha's advantage. That, paired with years of practice with poisons and hallucinogens, made her the village's most dangerous beauty queen.

These days, she taught part time at the kunoichi preschool. In the afternoons, she'd escort her son home from Academy and offer private lessons on astral projection, lucid dreaming, and self-hypnosis at her house.

"Still talking in your sleep, still thrashing around…" Hanako put a few more drops of clove oil on her burner and placed a hand across her face. A slow groan of exasperation left her mouth. "You know, when you first asked me for practice in lucid dreaming, I thought you'd be a natural. I was apparently wrong."

"I almost got him to raise his hand this time," Danzō informed her firmly. "It's progress." To control one's dreams and master them would prevent him from meeting the same fate as his father. A Yamanaka would never drive him insane, especially not with paranoid delusions. "I'm just not making as much progress as I would have hoped."

"For what it's worth," the blonde informed him, "Hiruzen still has trouble, too. It isn't only you. And with him becoming Hokage in a couple of days, you'd think he'd put more effort into making himself less of an easy target. At least _you're_ trying."

Hanako dusted off her floral-print skirt and made her way to the kitchen. The plan was to put on another pot of tea. "You're carrying a lot of guilt, though. Until you're able to forgive yourself, you'll never defeat that monster."

"It isn't a monster, Hanako. It's the Second Hokage." Danzō stared outside, noting all the flowers were coming into bloom for early spring. "If we had you or an Inuzuka on the team instead of Koharu or Homura—"

The kettle whistled, so Hanako moved toward it. Her stride carried a bit of sway, seeing as she only ever wore heels. The hot water poured over various leaves, roots, and buds to steep into whatever hypnotic blend she'd mixed for the visit.

In the background, Danzō heard the squeaking of Hanako's clan head's wheels, followed by the scampering of her son's feet to help Osamu inside. He'd prefer not to have this conversation with Osamu present, considering everything that man represented. Hanako clearly recognized that and pushed the tray of tea into another room, encouraging him to follow her.

This new room had bookcases from wall to wall, all on subjects like astrology, homeopathics, hypnotism, astral projection, _reiki_, and dream definitions. Hanako's painted portrait also sat proudly on the one bare wall: lovely, but dangerous.

She sat across from him, both arms flexed outward to behind the couch. It drew attention to the pretty pendant dangling around her neck...and to her bust. Danzō averted his gaze. "I'm flattered that you think highly enough of me to believe my presence on the escort squad could have saved that man."

"Why wouldn't I think that?" Danzō raised his cup in Hanako's direction. "You're one of the Yamanaka Clan's finest."

"So if I offer you some advice, you'll accept it?" Once Danzō nodded, Hanako took off her cat-eye glasses and placed them upon a nearby stand. The rose-pink rhinestones at the edges twinkled in the light. "_What if_ is a dangerous game to play. You'll trap yourself in an endless cycle of hypothetical scenarios, each one more self-defeating than the last.

"Try _what next_ instead. What is the situation? What do you still have in your arsenal? How can you prevent it from happening again? You'll never get ahead if you're always treading backwards. Go forward, even if that means leaving people behind."

"You've done that?"

"We're not talking about me, Danzō. We're talking about you. Apply that method to your next dream and tell me if anything improves. And if it doesn't...heh...at least you know how to summon the Baku…"

...

This had been their spot for years: one of two places in Konoha where both men knew they could talk without interruption. As for Danzō's home, the other place, people still had a habit of stopping by. Kagami. Torifu. Biwako.

Hashirama's strong face no longer sat alone in the stone. Tobirama now stood beside him: ready to forever keep his older brother company. And if Tobirama's wishes were respected, then Hiruzen's likeness would sit at his teacher's side. Whoever came next, Tobirama would never be alone again. Both sides were checked: both by a brother and by a friend.

"When I gave the body over to the Senju Clan, Toka told me she'd notify the proper channels about sensei's decision to endorse me. The inauguration will be in two days' time: just enough to finish the embroidery for the Sandaime Hokage coat." Hiruzen struck a match and lit the edge of his pipe. Long, thin strands of smoke left. "It still feels surreal."

"People can see and smell that," Danzō reminded Hiruzen. "You're making yourself visible."

"I don't care," Hiruzen replied. "You're watching my back, right?" A pause. The Sarutobi man exhaled again, this time leaving a smoke dragon in the air. It wasn't so much a jutsu as it was an excuse to show off. It didn't work. Danzō's eyes remained on the village below. "I know you're still upset, but—"

"Just because the Senju Clan knows, that doesn't guarantee they'll accept you as their Hokage," Danzō countered. From below, several street lamps were being snuffed out: all to show remembrance of their fallen champion and protector. "Morirama, for instance. He's demanding an election."

Hiruzen's eye roll hardly went unnoticed. The smoking came to a halt and he stared firmly at his friend. As lighthearted and optimistic as Hiruzen could typically be, the face greeting Danzō this time was somber and severe. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. An election would be a disaster."

Hiruzen leaned in; choosing to touch the scar on his friend's otherwise unmarred face. His fingers brushed across the grooves, feeling how even so many years later, that flesh remained hotter than the uninjured tissue surrounding it. He knew the scar hadn't come from a battle, but from Danzō's own father.

Just before Danzō could say _don't touch me_, Hiruzen stopped. "Do you understand why I'm hesitant to put my position up for vote?" Hiruzen's shoulder touched Danzō's and pressed in.

The contact wasn't welcome. Getting close like that made parts of Danzō's body burn in ways he'd rather not address. When Hiruzen broke into his personal barrier, he felt like he couldn't breathe. It was harder to talk, to look away, to _move_ away. "You're afraid I'll run against you." The air felt so thick.

Hiruzen put his hand on his best friend's leg and patted it lightly. "I know you plan to. I heard the hurt in your voice when you picked off the surviving Kinkaku Squad. I saw how you reacted to Koharu's grief. There's probably a part of you that's worried that this was your last chance: that I'll be Hokage forever and you'll never advance any further."

Behind Hiruzen's outwardly friendly face, Danzō saw traces of something else building beneath the surface. This went well beyond mere sympathy. It wasn't like all those times they struggled in the woods until Hiruzen threw a little mercy his friend's way.

"Do you hate me, Danzō?"

'_Do I hate you_?' He wondered that so many times. '_No matter how far I climb or how many of my goals I meet, it's never enough. You're always two to three steps ahead of me. I want to keep up, to match you, but some days it feels impossible. Your feet fly free and mine are weighed down...'_

And the longer he debated this internally and remained silent, the sadder Hiruzen's expression became. "You do," he mused. "I thought our friendship could withstand even this, but—"

"Don't mistake my envy for hate," Danzō blurted as he squirmed away. "I _resent_ you right now, and I covet what you have, but I could never bring myself to hate you." The last lantern went out below. He pulled his jacket closer to his body as darkness surrounded them. Their only remaining source of light came from the dim glow of Hiruzen's pipe and the moonlight. "Though if an election happens instead of a confirmation, know that I _will_ run against you."

Hiruzen's gaze went back toward the village. "Don't be foolish. I know you wish that he'd chosen you, but..." He shook his head. "You wouldn't win."

"It's still worth—"

"Danzō, _I_ wouldn't win." Hiruzen blew more smoke from his lips and gestured with his hand toward the village below. "You know as well as I do that this village would vote to give the seat to Morirama because every Hokage has been a Senju. They'll endorse the devil they know versus the angel they don't."

He met him, eye to eye. Hiruzen's eyes burned with worry just as hotly as Danzō's burned with frustration. "If you truly want an election, then you'll have to get used to the idea of Morirama being Third Hokage. That man bears no love for either one of us."

"...I...I hadn't thought of that," Danzō admitted.

He'd thought with spite only: so blinded by his own jealousy that he assumed he'd have a fighting chance in an election. He had friends other than Hiruzen. Many people praised him for being one of the finest young shinobi in the village. There were many in the village who would have endorsed his candidacy.

But now he understood that wasn't enough, not even for his friend. "Morirama spent his entire adolescence privately praying for his uncle's demise. He thought he and his mother were cheated out of a dynasty."

"I know, Danzō. That's precisely why he needs to be destroyed."

A chill crawled all the way up Danzō's spine. He would expect this sort of talk from some of the men in his own clan, or even from himself, but never Hiruzen. The Sarutobi man had always been the optimist: the great idealist who believed any problem could be resolved with enough determination and dedication.

The Hiruzen _Danzō_ knew would have tried to talk this over with Morirama, even going so far as to offer to let the Yamanaka Clan search his memories to validate his claim that, indeed, Tobirama endorsed him before venturing off to his death. He would have done all in his power to turn that man into an ally rather than an opponent, regardless of how much of an entitled ass they both believed Morirama to be.

"…destroyed?" He had to repeat the word. It still shocked him to his core. "Hiruzen, I...I never thought I'd hear _you_, of all people..."

"In order to survive and flourish, I'll need a strong foundation to back me." It was a mild genjutsu he wove, changing the smoke that blew from his mouth into scenes of their possible and imminent future. That smoke showed him standing atop a balcony, outstretching his arms as Third Hokage, with a mass of cheering people beneath.

And there, standing at his side, was Danzō. The smoke people vanished, save for Hiruzen and Danzō. The Hokage hat remained on Hiruzen's head. As for Danzō...he recognized the uniform. Just a week ago, Tobirama's head of ANBU died in the line of duty. A replacement needed to be named. Even in the smoke, he saw the black tattoo, the markings of the beast mask, and he understood.

This was his consolation prize: a peace offering from Hiruzen. It gave him a chance to watch his best friend's back more carefully than anyone else, to become _closer_ than anyone else.

"Tobirama-_sensei_ entrusted the future of Konoha to the both of us. I have a very important role for you, assuming you choose to accept it. I'm hoping you'll do the smart thing and take it." Hiruzen's hand moved to stroke Danzō's back as he would to comfort an upset child. "When I told you I planned to entrust the safety of everyone to you, I meant it. I can't share my role as Hokage with you, but promoting you as the head of my ANBU and giving you full permission to change the program as you see fit...this is your chance to change the course of history.

"If we work together, we can bring forth a new age. We can make this village better than Tobirama-_sensei_ ever thought possible…than Hashirama-_sensei_ ever thought possible…"

It wasn't the role Danzō had hoped for, but it was far more power than anyone else in his clan had ever managed to acquire. His father had served as the captain of the guard once, handling the borders of Konoha. His grandfather held no official title at all. Leading the ANBU would in effect make him the second most powerful man in Konoha, not to mention the obvious choice for Fourth Hokage should something unfortunate happen to Hiruzen...provided this unfortunate thing didn't trace back to him.

"You have until my inauguration to give me your answer." Hiruzen got up. "Assuming it—"

"I'll take it." Danzō moved to stand, but he couldn't look his friend in the eye. "I've got your back, Sarutobi. I'd rather join forces and accomplish something together than risk losing everything."

…

Two more days. That's all it would take before everything turned official. People like Morirama kept demanding evidence that Tobirama named him as his successor, but the general public were already calling him _Sandaime_ and _Hokage-sama_.

"Well? Is there anything on the books?" He'd chewed a couple of fingernails down to the quick from sheer nerves. "Homura?"

His teammate spent the past three hours combing over archives, trying to find the precedent Hiruzen needed. "_Finally_," the bespectacled man sighed in relief. He held out a scroll and presented it to Hiruzen. "It was mandated during sensei's inauguration. The Hokage _does_ have legal right to endorse a replacement in his dying moments. You have five witnesses, not to mention the right to ask a Yamanaka to read your mind. That's enough."

"I'd pity the Yamanaka," Hiruzen joked, feeling a bit more relieved upon hearing that memory hadn't failed him. His case would be the first time the law would be applied, but at least it existed. "There's so much filth in there that they wouldn't be able to look me in the eye afterward!"

Homura's face turned slightly rosy as he futzed about with his spectacles. He sucked in a deep breath and puffed out his chest, attempting to look big and important. "Yes, well, sometimes _I_ have trouble with that, too."

Sometimes Hiruzen wondered why Homura was so pent-up and stuffy. If _he _liked a girl, he acted on it. If the girl wasn't interested back, he could be a good sport about it because there were so many more to choose from. Kagami and Torifu both were already married, but he'd never so much as seen Homura date_._

And Danzō. Dear gods. _Danzō_ had to be coaxed into that first blind date with Biwako and half the time acted like he didn't know how to treat a girlfriend. He gave her gifts and listened to her, but Hiruzen had yet to see him act in an intimate manner. If this continued, Biwako ran the risk of getting bored and leaving him.

"Hey…Homura?" He scooted closer to his friend. "Have you given much thought into your future? Or Koharu's, for that matter?" The tips of Homura's ears turned the same shade as a strained beet. "You _are_ going to tell her how you feel about her someday, right? She–"

"She's aware," Homura blurted, clearing his throat loudly. "And what does it matter to you? It's not like you'll accompany the two of us on missions anymore."

Hiruzen lifted his head and looked all around the archives building. There were scrolls, scrolls, and more scrolls: Tobirama's jutsu and the collections of others, all as far as his eyes could see. "You think I'll forget who my friends are, just because my position's about to change?"

He chuckled, nudging his bespectacled teammate in the gut with an elbow. "I know who my best friends are. I think you and Koharu have earned council seats. The last thing I want to do is break up Team Tobirama."

"Council?" Homura blinked a couple of times. "Sensei didn't have one. You're proposing a Triumvirate?"

The Sarutobi laughed. "You sound like Danzō. No! I'm just giving the two of you a chance to double-check my policies and make sure I'm not about to sign us all to our doom. You have a wonderful legal mind and I can trust Koharu to be honest with me. She's always called me out when I'm about to do something stupid. Even once I'm Hokage, I want her to keep doing that."

The more it sank in, the more obvious it became that Homura was warming up to the idea of being somebody important for once. "And Kagami–"

"During sensei's reign, the Uchiha Clan were barred from any government position other than the Konohagakure Military Police Force. Maybe I can look over that law and see if it still needs to be in effect, but…" Kagami wasn't the sort to cause trouble. Nor was Torifu. "I think Kagami just wants to be left alone."

And yet Homura's expression of concern had yet to fade. "I'm accepting your offer. I'm sure Koharu will, too. I can break the news to her later, if you wish, but there's still one person left unaccounted for."

"Danzō, right?" Hiruzen read over the scroll again and smiled. "He and I have an understanding about how things are going to work from now on. I've given him command of the ANBU. I just made him the second-most powerful shinobi in Konoha. The only person he'll ever have to report to is me. I just hope that's enough to satisfy him."

"I hope so, too," Homura concurred. "For your sake as well as his."


	6. Hollow Sun

**Hiruzen ran so swiftly that Danzō believed his best friend's feet never touched the ground. The Sarutobi boy seemingly floated across the creek rather than making contact with the slick, smooth river stones at the bank. In an attempt to catch up, the Shimura boy felt water soak into his sandals. Every step squelched once he hit dry land, but he didn't care. **

**It was a carefree summer just before the rainy season: balmy, but comfortable with a faint breeze. Something in the warmer air made their bodies faster and more agile. Longer days meant longer hours and more opportunities for adventure. They seized each hour with the gusto of the young, carefree, and unhindered. **

**"We're gonna miss it! Can't you go faster?"**

**"I'm going as fast as I can, Hiruzen!" **

**Then Danzō felt one of his sandals rip apart. The entire shoe slipped off his foot: torn on a stone. Miraculously, Danzō's foot was fine. Deciding there was no point in moving forward with only one shoe, he chucked the other one into the woods and darted off.**

**The momentum he gained after that made it clear the only thing holding him back had been his footwear. Barefoot, he matched Hiruzen's pace and grinned at him proudly. "We're making good time," he reassured his friend. "It isn't even dark yet."**

**They climbed rocks and trees, rushed through woodland and meadow, fought against the river current, and finally reached their destination: the tall mountain overshadowing their village. Just below their feet was the carved likeness of Senju Hashirama's face.**

**The colors in the sky had begun to change: blues and silvers turned into lavender, rose, gold, and amber with a large red sun moving to set across the village. "Sometimes I wish I knew how to paint," Danzō confessed. "Because is there anything prettier than this?"**

**Hiruzen let loose a quick laugh. "Wait until the sun goes down." Today wasn't just a lovely summer sunset in Konoha. Tonight was special because Lord First's son was getting married.**

**The fat sun sank below the horizon, making way for blues and violets and a chewed fingernail moon. One by one, the gas lights in the village streets turned on to illuminate the pathways. Not to be outdone, summertime fireflies appeared from the woods, advertising their natural glow as passive-aggressive competition to the stars. **

**The temperature dropped a few degrees and the breeze turned into wind. Danzō's water-splashed trouser legs began to feel a tad cold. The boy shivered. Hiruzen noticed and moved closer, draping one arm around his friend's shoulders. **

**"What are we looking for, anyway?"**

**The timing couldn't have been better. A loud, high-pitched noise reminiscent of a scream filled the air. Then came an even louder, more pronounced ****_bang_****. Bright burning spirals of gunpowder flew into the air accompanied by fleeting flowers of various violets, greens, blues, and reds with the occasional gold.**

**The noise was intense, but the sight alone was worth the headache. Danzō's mouth hung open in amazement, watching every glorious explosion. His brown eyes seemed so much bigger, almost too mesmerized to blink. Hiruzen tightened his grip on his friend, pulling him closer in that hug. **

**His father told him about the fireworks earlier in the week, thinking that would be enough to herd Hiruzen to the event. Instead, he'd complained about feeling sick and waited until both parents were gone to sneak out of the house and fetch his friend.**

**"I want fireworks when I get married, too," Hiruzen decided. "****_Big _****ones. The whole village will see them and know how happy I am."**

**"I think I'll want something like this, too," Danzō concurred, "I don't think I'll marry, but maybe I can celebrate when I become Hokage. It's gunpowder, you know. They light it and let it explode in the air. People used to use it to signify danger****_."_**

**Hiruzen raised an eyebrow at that. "And you'd want that when you're Hokage? To signify danger?"**

**"Why not? ****_We_**** can celebrate," Danzō decided, holding his smug head high. "But I our enemies to piss their pants."**

**"...kinda looks like you did, pal."**

**"That was the river, you asshole! I could just push you off this cliff right now and—"**

**With the next big bang, Hiruzen pounced on his friend, pinned him to the ground, and watched as he squirmed: trying to turn them around. Danzō couldn't, but he kept trying. Finally, Hiruzen decided to let him win without being too obvious about it. **

**Once his own back hit the damp grass, the Sarutobi boy's eyes locked with his friend's. He smiled. Danzō smiled back. So Hiruzen laughed, watching as Danzō did the same...and fell over on top of him.**

…

Typically, he awoke alongside the sunrise. Last night, he decided to sleep as late as his body could allow so he'd be revitalized and ready to do whatever he wished on his last day with his old life. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Hiruzen realized it was already ten in the morning. A sleepy cat continued to doze in the sunlight on his windowsill.

He flexed, waiting until he heard a few joints pop and crack before stopping. A quick shower finished waking him up. Koharu had given everyone on the team a homemade soap as a Rinne Festival gift that past winter. He still had yet to finish his, but the strong smell of peppermint hit his senses and caused a delightful tingle in his skin.

As he took his time to dry off, he caught sight of two girls chasing each other with large sticks in the Sarutobi courtyard. They were pretending to be samurai. The bigger one charged until she had her friend cornered to a tree and smacked her with the stick. "Oh!" Hiruzen laughed. "Meiko, I think you got her good!"

"I sure did!" the five-year-old replied, only to get bonked in the head by her friend's stick. "HEY! COME BACK HERE!" They ran around in circles, one after the other, until both turned dizzy and fell over.

"Want to tag team against an expert?" He quickly put on his clothes, opened the window, and jumped out there. Hiruzen reached for a stick and twirled it a few times, just to show off.

Both girls seemed to enjoy the idea of going against him and charged in a basic formation. He blocked for a while, laughing at their attempts to take him down, but he finally gave Meiko an in. Feigning an injury, he winced and hesitated. That was all it took for the two little friends to knock him to the ground.

"I can't believe we kicked your butt!" Meiko exclaimed.

"I know, right?" Hiruzen chuckled. "Just don't tell anyone you beat your new Hokage, okay? You'll have challengers left and right!" But they were eating up the attention. "Alright. Okay. That's enough. Move along now. Go on."

A slow bit of applause came from the edge of the courtyard. "Koharu! Hi!" Hiruzen moved to stand, using only his legs so his hands wouldn't touch the ground. "Did Homura talk to you about what I—"

Judging from the way she raised both eyebrows at him and kept her hands on her hips, he was assuming she knew. "You want me to nag you even when you're Hokage. _Yes_. He told me. I came here to see if you wanted to grab lunch as a team. Torifu's busy talking to Torture & Interrogation about that Kumo ninja we captured and Kagami..." She shrugged. "I have no idea what Kagami's doing."

'_He's probably spoiling his kids,' _Hiruzen thought. It still struck him as so strange that some of his friends, people he'd known since his childhood, were married...and _one_ of them was a father of two with a third baby on the way.

"You don't want to invite Danzō, too?" He watched as Koharu rolled her eyes and let loose an indignant huff. "No?"

"I still haven't forgiven him for how he treated me on the way back to the village," she snapped. "I wanted this to be a _Team Tobirama_ lunch: my treat. You, Homura, myself...and no one else."

"Can I bring a date?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" There was a long awkward pause as they both stared at each other. Koharu just laughed and walked off. "I thought not. Meet me at my place in two hours, Hiruzen. We'll do _shabu shabu_."

...

There would be fireworks tomorrow. Some of the finest gunpowder from the Land of Iron was imported and expedited specifically for the occasion. A few officials and delegates from nearby shinobi nations began to appear: all hoping to get a good look at this new Hokage.

Danzō recognized some of the other headbands. Sunagakure. Takigakure. Kusagakure. '_And yet the war wages on just outside our borders. If we have time to celebrate, then we have time to continue the good fight against Kumogakure and Iwagakure.'_

And if their Third Hokage met the same fate as the Second, then—

No. He couldn't permit that to happen. _Ever_. If anything happened to Hiruzen now, Danzō would be the prime suspect. By pulling him this close, Hiruzen had guaranteed his own self-interest. As much as his pride took a major blow in watching Hiruzen steal his dream, it wasn't Hiruzen's fault. And at the end of the day, even after Danzō voiced his jealousy, Hiruzen was still looking out for him.

'_He didn't have to offer this position to me, but he did. Out of every friend he has in this village, I'm still the one he values most. I'm sure he thinks I'd do the same for him.' _He wanted to believe he would, but the nagging voice in the back of his head wasn't as certain.

He'd probably set him up to fail because it never mattered how hard he trained or got ahead. For every success in his life, Hiruzen had two. The village would inevitably recognize that and clamor for the same thing Morirama wanted. He'd be doomed, and all because he feared Hiruzen wouldn't be so kind if he sat in second place for once.

'_What the hell is wrong with me? Why can't I be happy for my friend? I know it's what he wants the most: to feel like I've put my jealousy behind me...but I can't. I don't know what I can do to fix this.'_

He chose to meet Biwako at one of the tea shops that morning. A pair of geriatric Naras played a board game against each other, occasionally breaking the low hum of small conversations with boisterous laughter. A few other couples were in there, clearly with the same idea.

"Hey!" an older woman called out. "You're our new Hokage's best friend, right? Tell him I said congratulations! He'll do a fine job as Sandaime!" Danzō faked a smile, but felt horrible when Biwako muffled a pained noise. He'd squeezed her hand too tightly.

When it came time to order their light brunch, he decided to take the whole tab out of guilt. Biwako patted him on the back for it, but the cloud of gloom refused to fully dissipate. So she tried to distract him.

"This one's especially nice, isn't it?" He felt Biwako's toes brush up against his ankle. She wriggled them and watched with amusement as her boyfriend's cheeks turned a bit pink. "I remembered that they carried _genmaicha_. That's your favorite, isn't it?"

Danzō smiled back at her. "How on earth do you remember stuff like that? We haven't gone out for tea in four months."

"That may be, but you always order the same thing." She chuckled. "You're a creature of habit. It's cute."

He rolled his shoulders back and sat upright, an indignant expression on his face. "_No_, Biwako. There's no part of me that's—"

Biwako was snickering, both shoulders wiggling up and down so quickly that she looked like she was shivering from the cold. When she stopped, she waved one hand dismissively. The steam from her jasmine tea wafted toward Danzō, its fragrance sliding into his lungs. "Cute or not, I'm just happy you made time for me."

"It was either that or party with Hiruzen all day. I'd rather not make an ass out of myself."

The Sarutobi girl's smile faded a bit. "Is it too much to ask for one date where you're _not _talking trash about your best friend? I swear, you're cattier than some of the girls I know!" Biwako huffed in annoyance, but didn't get up. Instead, she sipped her tea greedily and let her feet dangle. In the chairs, her toes failed to touch the floor.

"I'm sorry. It's kind of hard not to think about him these days." Danzō watched as she nodded her head along, but she didn't much seem to care. "He'll be Hokage tomorrow. Even if there are a handful of people questioning the legitimacy of that, it isn't enough to stop this from..."

But she wasn't going to say a word. _Go on_, those eyes dared him. _I just told you to stop, but by all means. Continue. I'll have words with you later about this_.

"I'm getting a promotion, too," he decided to tell her, hoping that a change of the subject would be enough. "The day he becomes Hokage," he heard her clear her throat, "I'll take over the ANBU."

"That's a very important role. It will require a lot of your time, won't it?" Oh dear. He didn't like her tone, or the way she was backing herself up to the wall: away from him. Or how she chewed on her bottom lip: a nervous tic she'd had since her kunoichi preschool days.

"I'll still have time for you," he promised, but that promise felt so empty. He wouldn't know for sure until his first week. ANBU was—

"No. I'll make your job easier for you by cutting off a major distraction," Biwako decided as she stood up. "I know how it works with ANBU. Long hours. _Secrecy_. Before I know it, you'll be a total stranger to me. I don't think I can do this anymore."

_This_. As in _them_? "Biwako—"

She forced a smile, but it was clear she would have preferred to scream out her frustration. "Congratulations, congratulations! May you do your village proud and serve with honor!" No part of that sounded sincere. It was automatic, mechanical, outwardly peppy pleasantries in a poor attempt to hide her frustration. "Goodbye, Danzō. I'll see you around…or not."

...

"I'm delighted, not to mention flattered, that you chose to keep us by your side." Koharu poured more tea for the group and turned up the heat for the pot. The noodles and other items required a couple of seconds of blowing air to be cool enough to eat, but the air smelled fantastic.

Thin slices of beef and pork floated in the pot, cooking to varying levels of rarity. Homura's pieces were always well cooked and "sanitary." Hiruzen preferred more blood to his meat. "Why wouldn't I?" Hiruzen quipped. "Who else can I trust to be this honest with me? If I named anyone else, they'd either kiss my ass or conspire against me!"

He nudged Homura playfully, watching as he hurriedly ate his well-cooked pork slice. "Can you imagine if I'd given this sort of role to Morirama?" Oh, he could _definitely _picture what that would look like: that regal, unhappy face leering at him every chance he got. He was certain Danzō would get over himself someday. Morirama, not so much. "Or Toka, for that matter?"

"Whatever your reasons, we won't let you down," Koharu vowed. "You know who your friends are."

"And I know that you won't mince words with me. You'll keep me in line and make sure I never go overboard." It was as close to a cry for help as Hiruzen would ever give. Outwardly, he had every confidence that he'd be capable of handling the position. He wanted that version of himself to be seen by all.

But they knew him. He'd _never _admit that he was scared to death of screwing up. Just as he wanted to feel like he was loved and admired, he equally wanted to inspire confidence in others. Perhaps Koharu and Homura weren't anything special (or, if Danzō was to be believed, _utterly useless_), but at least they were dependable.

"Be sure to get a good night's rest tonight, Hiruzen. And write your speech in advance. You'll have to give one tomorrow." Koharu offered to let him keep the leftovers for their meal, but Hiruzen declined. "I presume you're not going home right away?"

"Of course not! It's my last full day as a free man! I may as well live life to the fullest and enjoy myself. Once I'm stuck behind that desk all day, there's no telling how long it will be before I have another chance to treat myself and take it easy."

"Take it easy? _You?_" Koharu's arms remained folded. "In all the years I've known you, I've never seen you do that. Homura!" She barked his name like a dog. And, equally dog-like, Homura responded to it at full attention: always at her beck and call. "Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't do anything too ridiculous."

"I can't believe you!" Hiruzen tried his best to hold in a laugh, but he couldn't. "You're sending Homura to _chaperone_ me?"

"Consider it my first action as a member of your council, _Hokage_." Koharu's smile was smug: already confident in her ability to nag him into being a responsible, mature man.

It just made him want to prove her wrong even more.

...

Unarigoe Yui's shoulders and hips popped out of socket sometime yesterday. Osamu heard the tendons snap and watched as the poor thing's limbs stretched well beyond that the human body could naturally do. They remained motionless, all because every time they moved, the Kumo ninja shrieked herself hoarse.

The Yamanaka head perused his notes, sighing in annoyance because most of what this child gave him wasn't useful:

**_Subject is a 12-year-old Kumogakure chūnin. Subject transferred to the Kinkaku Squad three weeks ago after an opening became available. Reported to the Raikage's younger brother, who also died in the skirmish. Mostly scouted on Konoha. Did minimal combat._**

"I can't do anything with this, Yui," he informed her, holding out the paper on the clipboard. Yui's glazed-over eyes caught sight of the impressive sleeve of tattoos on the man's muscular arm. A beast with thousands of teeth smiled hungrily back at her from the ink, surrounded by stylized hydrangeas. Her vision had blurred so badly that it seemed to move, licking its lips. "We're going in circles."

Just as her legs would do with the next device. "My uncle, the last Yamanaka head of the warring states era, loved torture just as much as I do. I've spent years gradually stocking up my toy box until mine could surpass his in creativity, ingenuity, and cruelty. You've already experienced the rack. And the sprinklers."

The girl whimpered.

"And I have this one thing called the pear of pain, but I feel a tad uncomfortable using that on a child. Maybe when you're older..." His gray eyes met with hers and he caught sight of what she kept whispering under her breath.

_Just kill me. Kill me. Just kill me..._

"No, no. Not yet. Not until you give us what we want." Stubborn thing had to make everything difficult with her behavior, didn't she? "Yui, I'll be sitting you upright for the pedal wheel." She had no clue what that was, but she'd learn.

Despite how much she screamed, Osamu managed to slap manacles onto Yui's wrists to hold them in place. Her ankles received the same treatment to pedals on a wheel large and sharp enough to threaten to split her in two if it came any closer. "I c-can't pedal," she reminded him. "You dislocated my hips."

"No worries, dear." She'd worry all she damn well pleased. "I had it automated."

The machine started spinning on its own. The pedals moved, taking the girl's agonized legs with them. "MAKE IT STOP!" she shrieked. "STOP! PLEASE!"

But she may as well have screamed at the deaf or dead. Osamu proceeded to wheel himself away, knowing the machine continued for a full thirty minutes per cycle.

"IT'S GONNA TEAR ME APART!"

"It's adorable that you think I care," the tattooed man retorted. He wheeled out of the chamber for a smoke break, surprised to see Torifu was back. "We aren't having any luck with the girl. She wants to talk, but she doesn't have any valuable information."

The Akimichi frowned. "So you'll just keep torturing her until her body gives out?" The Yamanaka shrugged. "The hell is wrong with you?"

"It isn't my fault that your teammate chose a useless prisoner. If you'd so much as cut off a few heads, brought those in a bag, and seen me immediately upon your return; I'm sure there would have been enough gray matter for me to—"

Torifu swallowed the bile in his throat. "If Yui has nothing to give, then—"

One last loud scream came from the other room, followed by a gurgling noise. He reached to push Osamu's wheelchair back toward the commotion, only to find the girl had ended her own life. She'd forced the rest of her body forward until the saw from the pedal wheel sliced into her torso, grinding past the bones and turning her body into a split pulp. Yui dangled herself across the blade, damaged lungs wheezing out their last.

"Oh, _good_..." the Yamanaka sighed. "It's easier to get concrete thoughts from the dead." As if to prove a point, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, he leaned back in the chair, and seemed to stare at the ceiling using only his whites. "_Iwagakure_," he announced in a gravelly tone. "Rendezvous point with Kumogakure to the far northeast: April 1, 1900 hours...negotiations are in order—"

He came out of it, launching himself upright again. "Well, I'll be damned. The doll wasn't useless after all!"

...

"Why are you peeking?" Homura hissed. "There's no need to—"

"Sssssssh." Hiruzen waved a hand, dismissing his friend in an attempt to get him to shut up. "Do you want them to notice me?"

He asked the wrong friend. Even though Danzō had little to no interest in peeping on women, he was at least a good enough sport to be Hiruzen's lookout to make sure nobody caught them. Homura wasn't Danzō, though. _Homura_ was a gentleman and would not stand for such behavior. "This is unacceptable. If Tobirama-_sensei_ could see you now, he'd—"

"Hey...I know that voice!" a woman called out from the other side of the wall. "Homura? What are you—"

"Hiruzen's peeping."

"Some friend _you_ are!" In the past, women threw things at him, chased him down the street in nothing but a soggy towel, and threatened to cut his "banana" off if he so much as dared to snoop on them again.

Today was not that day.

Although Hiruzen braced himself for the possibility of showing up at his inauguration tomorrow with a black eye or busted lip, he instead heard several women laughing on the other side of the fence. '_I'm not dead? What on earth...?' _

He climbed a nearby stone, trying to elevate himself enough to see for himself what was going on; but Homura latched his arms around his waist and tried his best to keep him on the men's side. "What are you doing?! You can't go over there!"

"I'm the Hokage, Homura. I can go over there if I damn well—oof!" He lost his balance. The towel slipped. _Homura_ slipped. Both men crashed butt naked into the fence, knocking it over. The women squealed in surprise. "Ow...that..._tch_…remind me to kick your ass later for—"

When he stood, Hiruzen was treated to the sound of vulgar applause and female snickers. "Ooooh yes," a Yūhi woman crowed. "Show it _all_ off, Lord Third!"

"Ladies, no!" Homura refused to stand upright, at least until he could find his towel. "D-don't encourage him! If you do that, he'll never learn!" Yet from this angle, all he could see was his friend's firm, bare ass.

...

Torifu hand-delivered Osamu's report to Danzō's new office. As ruthless as the ANBU could be, at least they weren't anything like the monsters running Torture & Interrogation.

"You have a lot of nerve, asking me to check up on _your_ prisoner. Just because you're too much of a chicken-shit to go anywhere near Yamanaka Osamu...I swear..." But Torifu noted that Danzō wasn't saying much of anything to him this time. He seemed to be preoccupied and melancholic rather than his usual hotblooded self. "Do you want to know what that poor kid went through to get this intelligence?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyway." Danzō leaned forward, placing his nose closer to the parchment. He didn't want to look his teammate in the eye. Torifu was about ready to strangle him in his frustration, but had far better manners than to go beyond fantasizing over it. "I'm assuming she died?"

"_Thankfully_, yes. But only after Osamu burned her with acid, dislocated all four of her limbs, and strapped her to one of his devices. The damn thing pulled up to her body and turned her entire torso into a—"

The Shimura winced. "I see." And now all he could do was look over the report. The edges carried blood spatter and some other bodily fluid on the edges. The faint acrid smell of bile and sudden death hit his nose. "At least we have enough intel to know where the next major confrontation will be. The dead can't lie. This was a postmortem extraction?"

"...yes. That's correct."

Torifu sat beside his teammate, watching his every move. "Sometimes I don't know what to make of you. You have enough humanity left in you to feel wronged, but not enough for you to care that a little kid had to die for this."

"The instant a shinobi sympathizes with an enemy, the enemy has won," Danzō replied. "Shinobi Rule #11. It's simply easier to think of them as something other than human or merely as means to an end." The worst part was realizing that this applied for friends, too. If he sympathized with them, they could get away with murder.

...

"Hey...hey, Homura..." His face was completely ruddy as he held up his third cup of sake. "When you talk to Koharu later, tell her I have a girlfriend now! I have five!" Hiruzen laughed loudly, leaning back until he bumped his head against the wall.

To his left was a skinny, long-legged brunette with piercing amber eyes. To his right was a voluptuous blonde with pillow-like breasts and a cozy lap he couldn't help but want to rest on. They, and three others, had followed the duo from the public bath to the gambling den to the _first_ bar...to his home.

And later, once he was sober enough to understand why this was a problem, Homura would tell him never to do this again. Two of those women were foreign. And there was no guarantee such women were on _his_ side.

Although Hiruzen started his morning alone, he'd only spend the evening that way if he so desired. His old friend and these five new ones escorted him all the way to his house, where he had every intention of continuing the celebration.

"I have my own liquor cabinet," he announced. "Drink and be merry! Tomorrow marks the next chapter in my life, but today? _Today_ has been the _best_!" He tried raising a toast, but some of the alcohol spilled out. "It's thanks to aaaaaall of you. I love you all."

The toast continued, but Homura couldn't take it anymore. Once he got like this, it was impossible to reason with him.

"Homura...?" Hiruzen smiled playfully: like a child who had a few too many sweets at a party. "Don't tell me you're leaving...?"

"I have to prepare for tomorrow," Homura reminded him. "You should do the same." The laughter from the women started to die down. And one by one, they started their departure too.

"The night's still young, ladies!" Hiruzen offered. "What if we...we could..."

The blonde left a big red lipstick mark on his cheek. "You'll do great tomorrow," she cooed, not even bothering to look back. But as the last figure departed, so too did that heavy cloud of joy he'd wished to wrap around himself all day.

From one wall, the shadow of impending responsibility grew. From another came the guilt of being unable to protect his sensei. From the third came a growing fear that he wouldn't measure up and Tobirama's trust in him had been misplaced. Wasn't _Danzō_ more responsible than him, for instance? Or Homura, for that matter?

From the fourth wall came crippling loneliness. Hiruzen could only shine his brightest with others around. The moment he found himself alone again, the more those four pillars of self-destruction had time to build into his own private tomb. Shakily, he wrapped his arms around himself and closed his eyes.

'_I'll screw it up,' _the thoughts began. '_I'm starting to realize just how many people I'll need to help me succeed._' And most of those friends were tragically fair-weathered. They'd come in the best of times and celebrate his joys with him, only to leave the moment he actually _needed _them. '_Why…?_´ he wondered.

'_Why do they never stay?'_

_..._

After reviewing the transcript of the Kumo girl's postmortem memory extraction, Danzō felt he had enough to hold his first assembly as head of the ANBU the following day. _April 1st_, at 7:00 PM, Iwagakure and Kumogakure would negotiate the terms of a makeshift union to take down Konohagakure. The meeting place would either be Shimogakure in the Land of Frost or Yugakure in the Land of Hot Water. They only had a few days to prepare.

But at least he could sleep on it, gather his thoughts, and maybe try to be a better friend to Hiruzen. After the official ceremony came to an end, perhaps he could invite him over to celebrate in private. Even an attention-loving extrovert like his friend would surely want a break from the crowds eventually.

Danzō wanted to take a nighttime stroll and appreciate the village's tranquil, drowsy beauty. Tomorrow, he would take a vow to defend and protect this place with his life: until death did he part. This land was more inviting than any human lover could ever hope to be. Konoha never made demands or asked for more than he could reasonably give her. All she wanted was his heart, his life, and his devotion. And in time, if he did right by her; she would express her gratitude by having her people see him as their hero: a proud man of battle and strategy, just like his father and his father before him.

It was inevitable that his feet moved on their own; only pausing to stop by the Hokage tower. It couldn't hurt to look, could it, now that Tobirama's belongings were boxed up and moved out by his Senju relatives?

Had Danzō been Hiruzen, he would have spent part of the day decorating the office and writing his speech. Everything that had his name on it had to be perfect…but Hiruzen didn't operate like he did. He'd wait until the last minute and give a standing ovation. He was probably too busy celebrating his promotion to even think about the office yet.

This meant Danzō could give his dreams a proper goodbye in private. He could visit the Hokage's office while it was still bare, take a seat at the desk, and look over the village from a perspective that would never be his. It was a soul-crushing adieu to a fantasy he'd carried from the first time he met Senju Hashirama.

Entering the building, he caught sight of two masked figures in the hall. "Danzō-_sama_." So they knew. Danzō made a gesture for them to let him pass. They obliged. A small comforting rush of power and control touched his heart.

In the past, Hashirama put several photographs of his family in the hall. Mito smiled proudly with Morirama and her other children for years. Once Tobirama took control of the tower, all photographs were replaced by the minimalistic emblems of Konoha's various clans...and the occasional piece of Shimura Zocho's propaganda art.

The walls were naked again. Hiruzen could decorate them with whatever he wished. '_I'd frame articles and treaties for display,' _Danzō decided. '_That way, anyone visiting my office could see the most important current events of my tenure and understand what kind of man I am before they even meet me.'_

At the top, Tobirama's bookshelves were barren: completely devoid of his life's work. Everything his sister-in-law and her family didn't want to hide from the public would be preserved for all eternity in the village archives. '_Will you fill these up with your own techniques, Sarutobi?'_

The door opened with no effort. The Konoha symbol sat in red cloth atop the desk. Several scrolls and tomes remained, along with Tobirama's unfinished paperwork. The chair was pulled out, ready for its next Hokage. _Inviting_.

Danzō only managed to contain his grief at the funeral because people were present. No one was here. He bit his lip to keep it from trembling as he approached. He kept imagining Tobirama would come back and shoo him out of the office, but it was silent as a crypt. His fingers brushed the cloth and reached to push the chair back just a little more. For a couple of minutes, maybe, he'd—

"How did I know you'd be here?"

A scarlet sunset bled through the windows of the central office, bathing Hiruzen's body in the dying amber light. Danzō's eyes caught sight of the _Sandaime _embroidery upon the back of the jacket and felt his pulse quicken. The coat was a masterpiece without so much as a single thread out of place. The same seamstress made similar coats for the Shodaime and Nidaime. It was meant to go only to Hiruzen's ankles, but the garment was a bit too large for his short frame. The fabric's hem dragged on the floor, threatening to pick up every bit of dirt that came into contact with it.

This whole time, Hiruzen remained with his back turned to Danzō. He poured a glass of saké for himself and downed it in one greedy gulp. Upon the desk, Danzō noted two bottles were already empty and this one hit the half mark. More than that, the entire ashtray was full.

"I hope that's all you've had today," Danzō commented, hoping to convince his friend to turn around and look at him. "But knowing you, I have my doubts. Homura said you spent the whole day placating every hedonistic urge you've ever had."

Hiruzen turned around, a cigarette still in his mouth. He'd kept it for so long that it was almost entirely ash. One quick flick and he'd have nothing but a butt left. Yet it remained: an ugly gray tail next to his tightly pressed lips. One side of his mouth curled upward into a smirk and Danzō heard a noise leave his friend's chest. It was somewhere between a cough and a bitter laugh.

"You know me _sooooo well. _Don't you, Danzō?" Hiruzen's words were slightly slurred, not helped by the fact he mixed them with a chuckle. "An' Homura's really one to talk. He was downing 'em and chasing skirt riiiiiight alongside me."

'_Dammit! He's drunk!_' Danzō felt some of the bile crawl up his throat: disgusted by what he saw. Every motion he made, Hiruzen's dark eyes remained on him. No move would go unchallenged. "Your inauguration is tomorrow," he growled at Hiruzen. "You'll be so hungover that you–"

Hiruzen laughed a bit more. Normally, that laugh would gain momentum until the whole room resounded with a good guffaw. This didn't sound lighthearted. He sounded distressed, _anxious_ even. He moved closer to Danzō, as well as the light. When he did, Danzō could see his friend and soon-to-be Hokage in all his glory.

The only piece of clothing Hiruzen had bothered to wear was the coat. His only other adornments were the plethora of hickeys and bite marks stretching from his neck to his knees. "I know you don't drink, Danzō. You say it clouds judgment and poisons the mind, right?" He moved closer, that increasingly distressed inflection in his words building to a crescendo. "But I'm not as responsible and methodical as you. I'm about to panic because I'm. Not. Prepared."

'_Then maybe you shouldn't have raised your hand.' _It was a spiteful thing to think, especially when his friend carried so many doubts about his ability to lead. "So you're distracting yourself from the inevitable by drowning yourself in alcohol and loose women?"

"Who said they were only women?" Hiruzen snorted, raising an eyebrow. He was so close now that Danzō could feel the heat resonating from his friend. Hiruzen's lips curled into a smile, but Danzō still smelled the spirits on his breath, along with what he only hoped was tobacco. Then, without warning, he felt a couple of fingers reach up to push some of his dark hair away from his face.

"What…what do you think you're doing…?"

Hiruzen didn't answer that question. Instead, he rolled his shoulders, causing one of the sleeves to slide, leaving part of his left arm bare. He rolled them again and let that regal garment hit the floor. "Here…" He turned and squatted to pick it up. This time, Danzō caught sight of rose-pink scratch marks welting up on his friend's bare back. "Want to try it on for size?"

'_The Hokage's coat…_' Danzō's heart skipped a beat when the garment landed into his hands. Silk lining, paired with a heavy duty and high quality cotton surface, scarlet kanji and flame embroidery to showcase the _will of fire_ beloved by all…

The fabric felt so familiar to him that he began to fancy it was tailored for somebody other than his friend. "I shouldn't. It isn't mine."

"You're right. It's not." That didn't stop Hiruzen from trying to put it on him anyway.

The startling thing was that it _did_ fit. In fact, it fit Danzō better than it fit Hiruzen. When he wore it, it didn't touch the floor. It wasn't too loose, too tight, or—

"But it's the closest you're ever going to get."

...

Hiruzen had a few extra bruises and would attend his inauguration with a bad limp. Danzō didn't even think he had it in him to look at him right now and prayed he was drunk enough not to bring up what happened in that room. _Ever_. It took him over an hour to calm down enough to hide the tremor in his right hand.

For modesty's sake, the coat was still on top of Hiruzen. Danzō also kept him slightly elevated so he wouldn't accidentally choke on his vomit. When he finished his task in the office—tomorrow's speech: one last gift for Hiruzen—he'd carry him home and let him spend the night at his house.

'_I can't say no to him anymore,' _he told himself as his hands shook. '_We aren't equals. We'll __**never**__ be equals...'_


	7. Lord of the Swine

ANBU Headquarters rested in seclusion beneath the Hokage Mountain, hidden in the shade and far from the public's eye. A tired guard in an owl mask sat at all times at the front gate: guaranteeing only those belonging to the brotherhood could enter. Should anyone unauthorized appear, he had clearance to sound the alarm and launch an ambush.

The halls always glowed a faint foxfire blue: an artificial twilight regardless of the true time of day. That disorienting darkness threw off everyone's sense of time, making it feel as though the night would go on forever. It was a place the sun's rays never reached: a spot the Hokage's warmth never touched. Tobirama wore both the Hokage's hat and that of the head of ANBU: two roles in one. And Morirama followed, shadowing his uncle at every turn.

Hiruzen's proposal to split the two roles—with Shimura Danzō as the ANBU yin to his Hokage yang—would allegedly help Konoha to advance while giving Hiruzen the safeguard of plausible deniability should ANBU go too far.

News of Danzō's promotion came a day after Hiruzen's announcement as Sandaime Hokage. Despite the fact the Shimura man had no ANBU experience, nor had any of his relatives sat in Tobirama's ANBU, the village's new Third Hokage apparently thought it prudent to choose a close friend over someone with actual experience.

'_My father never accounted for this.' _Hashirama hadn't seen the need. He believed that so long as the whole of the village worked together as a unified front, then everyone could act honorably and with Konoha's greater good in mind at all times. '_And now ANBU's in jeopardy of deviation, too.'_

Tobirama, cold pragmatist that he was, recognized that being a shinobi had nothing to do with honor, but rather with the covert operations needed to maintain order. ANBU was one pet project among many, not to mention a legacy that their new Sandaime decided was valid enough to continue.

Morirama had been an ANBU captain since his twenties_. _He'd entered this line of work knowing it would pull him closer to the Nidaime and make his ugliest secrets accessible. After a while, Morirama came to see the dimly-lit hidden fortress as a home away from home.

Walls upon walls of shoji screens captured the faint blue light of early morning. The beast masks never reflected this light. Although the porcelain was painted in places, they were never glazed.

Morirama finished dressing in the locker room and reached for the last part of his uniform: the boar mask. Detachable tusks jutted out, sharp enough to double as weapons should he run out of supplies and need to improvise. Though he did prefer to keep the tusks on. They were air filters on the inside, thereby letting his mask double as a gas mask.

"At the very least," a gaunt woman with tied back lilac-colored hair uttered as she peered in from the hallway. Her face was hidden behind a hawk mask. "_You _should have received this appointment. Not an outsider."

"At least we can fuck with him a little before it becomes official," Morirama replied, tying the mask into place.

"It's still not right, what's going on," the woman continued. "Everyone in ANBU knows the most qualified person to be Hokage is—"

"You'll have to be careful where you say that from now on."

"If you _wanted_ to work together to—"

"No. Then the only thing I'd be in the public eye is a usurper. I'd be no better than my uncle." Tobirama used underhanded and dirty tactics to usurp the Hokage seat. No matter how much time passed, Morirama's opinion of him would never change. "And now his pet Sarutobi gets to sit cozy in that seat, just because my uncle—"

"Captain." A large auburn-haired man in a bear mask saluted Morirama. "Shimura Danzō is here. He wanted to meet with everyone to discuss the protection formation for the Sandaime."

The lilac-haired woman stared at her Senju captain and shrugged her narrow shoulders. "Well, you heard the man. _Master calls_."

Morirama walked down the corridor with his head held high, occasionally feeling his long ponytail flop against his back. He'd grown it long and tied it back like the men of his wife's clan: a tiny homage to the Yamanaka family. To his left, the hawk remained. To his right, the bear followed suit. Three dozen other operatives from entry-level to captain rank joined along.

'_This is it, then: the new order of things. Let's see if the little bastard's even suited for the role.' _If this was their new Hokage's doing, then Morirama would do all in his power to make sure Hiruzen and Danzō didn't ruin the village. Perhaps he wasn't Hokage, or head of ANBU, but—

But there he was. "I see the Sandaime made sure you received the proper uniform ahead of time, Danzō." Morirama gave a salute and bowed. Others followed suit, not a one wanting to miss proper protocol. "Sorry...Danzō-_sama_."

"Is that how it's going to be?" He'd expected the Shimura man to scowl at him for the slight. Instead, Danzō sneered. "Because if you'd rather not work for me, Morirama, you can always resign."

No. He refused to do that. Any position of authority he managed to secure for himself, he _needed_ to keep. "If the Hokage sees fit to qualify you as the head of this department, then surely he sees _something _in you." Either that or Danzō got on his knees and sucked Hiruzen's dick.

'_I can't take him seriously,' _Morirama thought. '_He's too young and hotblooded for the role. I've known this brat since he was a genin. He just feels high and mighty because his friend has his back. A week at most...that's all it will take for reality to sink in. He'll be coming to me for advice by then_.'

"I have no use for flattery or backdoor politics." Danzō exhaled slowly and tried to get a better look at the other operatives. "If anyone has an issue reporting to me, they're free to leave. But know that should you choose to do that, I'll simply do what the Sandaime did and put _my _people in your spots. I'd prefer to keep as many senior people as possible, though. I have every intention of being fair."

"Do you plan to fight alongside us?"

"In time...once I trust you."

"We'll trust _you_ once you become one of us," Morirama remarked, turning to the side so Danzō could see the black emblem tattooed into his flesh. "We'll take care of this before the ceremony. Have a seat, Danzō-_dono."_

Danzō did as instructed: leaving his shoulder bare for the application of the tattoo. Once it was placed upon his flesh, it would never leave. The hawk-masked woman offered a strap of leather for him to bite down. "I won't need that."

"No one here will think less of you if you change your mind." But Danzō refused. Instead, he grabbed tightly onto the edges of the chair until his knuckles turned white. Morirama watched the younger man's posture and body language. "Here's your last chance, Danzō. I—"

"I said I don't need it. Just do it already!"

...

The ANBU were sworn to silence about how much Danzō kicked and screamed as the mark was seared into his skin, but at least Morirama internally got a chuckle out of it. At least Danzō didn't cry or pass out. He'd simply made a lot of noise.

Considering the ANBU marks were done using a branding method, Danzō's flesh surrounding the tattoo remained red and inflamed. Morirama assured him he could apply an aloe leaf to it later, but not cold water. Until the wound healed, the skin ran the risk of cracking if exposed to the cold.

**_There is no need for you to appear in uniform at this ceremony_****,** Danzō informed them. **_Stand with your families in civilian garb. You're too obvious in the masks._**

"I'm glad your new boss gave you the day off."

Morirama smiled at his wife, nodding his head slowly. This was the lie they all were instructed to tell. Ninety percent of the men and women on active duty weren't open about their ANBU status. "Hey, Tsu?"

"Yeah, '_tou-san_?"

"Wanna get a better look at your new Hokage?" He squatted down so his daughter could climb on his back. For the past half hour, Tsunade squirmed and complained about the fact everyone ahead of her was too tall for her to get a good look. "There we go! When he comes out, wave."

"What's he like?"

'_I don't know Hiruzen that well,' _he realized. '_I only remember him as a filthy-minded little toad who liked to peep on women at the bathhouses. It's not like I can tell my kid that. It's disrespectful_.'

"He's the son of a famous shinobi," he began. "Word is he knows every known jutsu in Konoha. He can control all five elements and comes from a very strong clan."

"Like your clan?" Tsunade's feet kept lightly kicking her father's sides. Morirama felt it in his ribs. He hoped she didn't hit an old injury. If she did, he'd have to put her down. "Or '_kaa-san's_ clan?"

"The Sarutobi Clan is different from ours, princess. They came to this village with three major allies already behind them. Your mother's clan, as well as the Nara and Akimichi Clans, were already good friends with the Sarutobi Clan before they moved here. And I knew Hiruzen_-sama_'s father. Sasuke_-dono_ was a very honorable shinobi, not to mention a good leader. If he's anything like—"

"He is," his wife assured him. "You might not know Hiruzen all that well, but I do." Of course. Because of that Sarutobi-Yamanaka bond. "I know you're disappointed that your uncle didn't name you, but he's a good choice."

"How so, '_kaa-san_?" Tsunade's legs just kept wriggling.

"Your father just told you how smart and strong he is, but he's something Lord Second never was." She smiled with a bit of fondness. Seeing a Sarutobi take the seat was like seeing a distant cousin take it. She'd have been just as thrilled to see Akimichi Torifu up there. "Lord Third is a real people person. It's easy for him to relate to others and get them to put their differences aside."

Morirama felt his wife nudge him. She looked up at him with her pretty blue eyes and smiled serenely. "You're so quick to forget that he studied under more than just your uncle, love. Hiruzen studied under your father, too. He's more like him."

"I forgot all about that." But it was a relief to hear. Some of his dread regarding today subsided...though he did occasionally look at Danzō's sore arm and feel a bit of satisfaction in that. Hiruzen, he could grow to like. Danzō, he never would.

And when Hiruzen actually staggered out in the Hokage robes, it was all Morirama could do to hold back a small laugh. "Gods...he looks so _little_ up there!"

"Not everyone can be a giant like you and Lord First, love."

"Yeah, but—" Morirama could barely see Hiruzen at all! Several people cheered, though, in a way they hadn't for Tobirama. Upon hearing the general masses applaud with approval, Morirama began to suspect the people would accept Hiruzen with no debate. If this was the person the last Hokage thought was qualified to take his position, then so be it.

Despite the fact Hiruzen was much shorter than his predecessors, he made up for it with grandiose, exaggerated motions. People quickly forgot about his smaller stature and turned quiet, curious to hear what he planned to say.

"**Spring came late this year**," Hiruzen began. "**We experienced the longest, harshest winter in the village's entire history. As the last bits of frost thaw, a part of me is saddened by what Konoha lost this past season. Losing a Kage is always a frightening, unstable time for a village. We lost a great one."**

_Great and terrible_, some would have said. No one spoke up.

"**My predecessor, Senju Tobirama, devoted his adulthood to his brother's great dream and our Will of Fire. It was through his hard work and effort that we secured our spot as the shinobi world's first true superpower. Lord First taught us how to dream**."

"And his fucking brother taught us how to _fear_ dreams." Morirama heard that scathing hiss come from behind. He turned his head around to see the remark came from a member of the Uchiha Clan. _Naho_. Internally, he agreed with his late teammate's baby sister, but it was dangerous to say such things aloud. Clearly, Naho's clan head thought the same thing because she kicked the woman's ankle.

"**Lord Second rooted those dreams in reality. I, Sarutobi Hiruzen, as your Third Hokage, vow to teach us how to ****_expand _****that dream. There is no shame in aspiring to more. If anything, I want to encourage ambition for our village."**

It wasn't lost on Morirama that Hiruzen occasionally turned his head to the right to look at Danzō. It also didn't go unnoticed that Danzō nodded in encouragement, keeping his lips tightly pursed. '_That smug ass outsourced his speech, didn't he!?' _Morirama was mildly appalled by the notion. '_He couldn't even be bothered to—'_

_'I told you he was shrewd,' _his wife thought back, giving his thigh a playful pat. '_Leaders know how to delegate, dear._'

**"Thanks to my predecessors and those who worked alongside them, we're already the best village. Other nations treat Konoha as the golden standard of what it means to be a shinobi village. They adopted our practices and fine-tuned them for their own use. But we can be more than a baseline. With your help, once we win this war, we'll encourage the rest of the world to share in our dream and spread it to more people than ever before.**

**"Winter is over, Konohagakure. Now, it is time for everything to bloom again. New flowers. New leaves. New branches, spreading wider and stronger than ever before."**

...

Danzō's arm still ached from where Morirama branded him. Each time he tried touching the tattoo, he hissed in pain. His home had a private hot spring, which he'd invited Hiruzen to join him for after all the pomp and circumstance came to an end. The warmth felt quite nice on the mark, though he'd limit its contact with the water.

Even with the steam making everything a bit hazy and less clear, he could still see all the marks on Hiruzen from last night...including two new ones. The less he thought about what happened in the office, the better.

"That's it, huh?" Hiruzen reached to poke the tattoo. Danzō quickly covered it with a hand and glowered at his friend, daring him to make a move. "Relax. I just want to look at it."

"I saw your hand, Sarutobi. You want to _touch_ it." And considering how little _he_ wanted to touch his own skin, the last thing Danzō wanted was Hiruzen prodding something so sensitive like a curious child. "I'm never getting another tattoo as long as I live."

Yet he understood why it had to be done: everyone in ANBU was marked. Trickling a little water over the burn alleviated some of the aching. Mixing it with an aloe salve helped even more. "You should have seen the look on Morirama's face. He enjoyed my suffering a bit too much."

"My, my. He really does hate you, doesn't he?"

"You don't know the half of it. I also think we'll run into problems with the other ANBU later. They clearly don't like the idea of taking orders from an outsider like me." Though judging from the way Hiruzen looked at him, the new Hokage didn't seem to see this as a problem. "You aren't worried about that?"

"No. You shouldn't be, either; Danzō. That position effectively makes you my backup: my second-in-command for the whole of the village. If they refuse your commands, it's tantamount to refusing _my_ commands. You could charge them for treason if they fail to comply. No one in ANBU got there by being stupid. They know that. They're just testing you to see how much they can get away with before you reprimand them."

'_I didn't need you to tell me that. I knew that.' _But Danzō bit back those words. "I have permission to make arrests and to terminate contracts?"

"Oh, absolutely! Just don't do anything that would reflect poorly on me. And if you do…" Hiruzen sprawled out in the water, draping one wet arm around Danzō's soaked shoulders. "Don't tell me."

Danzō tensed up, not wanting the contact. He hadn't wanted it yesterday and he certainly didn't want it now. Being that close to Hiruzen made him feel like a cornered piece of prey and he hated it. He absolutely _hated_ it.

"You really did save my ass today, Danzō. It was a beautiful speech."

"Is that so?" Then there was something he needed some clarification on. "If that's true, then why did you cut out half of it?"

And then he felt it: a stray fingernail lightly grazing his inked skin. Danzō hissed and felt his toes curl. The pain stimulated him in ways he'd rather not think about, especially with anyone else present. Then Hiruzen did it again. The hiss was _audible_ this time. His heart pounded faster, reacting to the heat of the water, the close proximity to another body, and that sensation of having something so tender touched. He felt disgusted with himself.

"Stop that and _answer_ me! If my speech was so great, then—"

"Konoha isn't ready for half the things you wrote. Not yet. And that other fifty percent? I didn't agree with it. That speech needed to be quick and end on a positive note. People are in a state of panic, my friend. It's more important to placate them and restore their pride before we try to change things."

"What was it?" He wanted to know. "What _exactly_ did you disagree with?"

"Can we have this conversation later? When I'm not hungover and sick from stress? This whole day, I swear...my head's about to—"

Then came a bright loud crack in the sky, followed by the screech and crackle of several other explosions. "Oh goddammit." Hiruzen grimaced every time another one went off. "I forgot I'd asked for fireworks…"

Danzō peeled himself away from Hiruzen and wrapped his arms around himself. Inside, he was seething. '_I had wanted fireworks, too. I told you that before. Is this how it's going to be from now on, Sarutobi: my uncredited ideas turn into your actions?_' The only thing that eclipsed his anger was an intense wave of resignation. Hiruzen was right. Being his satellite was the most he could ever aspire to for as long as his golden boy of a friend lived. "Did you want to spend the night?"

Hiruzen lifted his head up a bit, sleepily. "You don't mind?"

"It felt like the practical thing to do. My house is—what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

It was a weak, tired little smile: the same sort Biwako used to make when they stayed up all night talking. "I really don't deserve a friend like you."


	8. Gamble

Entering the Hokage's office felt surreal that morning, if only because Hiruzen was in the middle of redecorating. "You could hire a genin team to do that for you. They'd be happy to do it."

"I know, but..." Hiruzen chuckled and placed a calendar by his desk. As soon as Danzō saw what the artwork was, he frowned.

Zocho, an older man in Danzō's clan, was known in the village for painting beautiful portraits. His paintings of Hashirama and Tobirama sat proudly in the hall. Within the month, he'd begin his work on painting Hiruzen. Most of the propaganda posters placed across the village were Zocho's handiwork, too. Tobirama always kept that man busy between missions.

But within the past five years, Zocho branched out into doing racy pin-up art. Naturally, Hiruzen had a calendar. Miss March, for instance, was a voluptuous Akimichi woman in scarlet, pulling down the top of her yukata to show off just enough of her bountiful bosom to prevent the piece from turning pornographic.

"Some of the stuff I want to put up isn't exactly family-friendly."

And in moments like this, it was all Danzō could do to hold in his frustration and bite back all the annoyed, vexed words he wished to spew at his friend. "It needs to be. I know this isn't what you want to hear, but your office and the hallway leading up to it is the first impression foreigners will have of you. If they see this sort of trash on your walls, do you really think they'll take your policies seriously?"

"Yes. In fact, I think they'll view me as the sort of guy they'd like to drink with," Hiruzen countered. "I'll be approachable."

"Only to a certain type of visitor. We received a request for negotiation with the Land of Moors, Sarutobi."

"You only call me that when things get serious or you're about to scold me. Isn't negotiation this early in my career a good thing?"

"You didn't let me finish." Danzō took a deep breath. "The Land of Moors is sending their Captain of the Guard to meet with us."

"That doesn't sound so—"

"Their _female_ Captain of the Guard. How do you think a woman will interpret your choice of decoration?" There was a long pause, then that all-too-familiar chuckle. If this were a lighthearted discussion, maybe Danzō would smile back. Today, Hiruzen's laugh was every bit as grating as a kunai scraping a blackboard. "I'll tell you. She'll think you're a misogynist."

Miss March's dark brown eyes dazzled everyone who stared at her portrait. _Hey_, her face seemed to say. _Don't forget that my eyes are up here_. Danzō was made equally uncomfortable by the fact that the calendar girl reminded him of Torifu's wife.

"Maybe you're right about the pin-up art in the hall..."

"I'm right about _all_ the art."

"Okay, fine. You're right about everything." There wasn't much point in arguing over it. "But the calendar's staying at my desk." Hiruzen glanced up, still grinning. "Though I don't think you have anything to worry about with this visit, at least not over such a minor thing. The Land of Moors has a reputation for being a rather...heh..._open_ society. Don't forget that the Akane Clan lives there."

That was true. Polyamory and free love were the norm in that nation. The people there had an entirely different culture...and that only made Danzō worry all the more that Hiruzen would make the wrong assumptions about their guest.

It had almost become a Hokage tradition to meet with a representative from the Land of Moors. The nation owned a critical trade junction between the lands of Wind, Earth, and Fire. Prior to the creation of shinobi villages, that junction was a free market. Villages were supposed to make life less complicated, but it certainly hadn't for the merchants.

And every time a new Hokage came to power; that country's one and only local clan, the Akane, sent an ambassador to re-negotiate possible integration into the Hidden Leaf. They had built their own miniature village in the trade town, but carried bigger dreams. The Akane wanted the security of belonging to a major village, but Danzō knew enough about those people to know that bringing them into Konoha would be a disaster. They were manipulative by nature, not to mention poisonous.

Hashirama stalled with the Akane Clan for his entire tenure as Hokage. Tobirama intentionally offended them in an attempt to deter them from further negotiations. When the Akane retaliated, Tobirama signed off on an embargo of all Land of Moors goods.

It was only natural that the Akane would want to try again now that Konoha had a new, young, inexperienced man in the Hokage seat. And if they recognized Hiruzen as a man who thought with his dick more than his head, they'd take advantage of that. Potent sex pheromones were their _kekkei genkai_.

"I'll stay by your side for that negotiation," Danzō insisted, "just in case things turn ugly."

…

But it wasn't the only matter on the ANBU's plate.

Yui, the surviving Kinkaku Squad member Torifu turned over to Yamanaka Osamu, died under torture. Every last bit of information her brain contained was picked apart by the Torture & Interrogation Unit. This information was then forwarded along to the new head of ANBU.

Just as Hiruzen had decorated his own office, so too had Danzō. His tastes were far more muted: traditional paintings of mythical yokai and the village landscape. It told those who entered the room absolutely nothing about himself: just the place he'd sworn an oath to protect.

"It appears the Hidden Cloud and Hidden Stone are planning to join forces against us." Danzō glanced up from his desk to make eye contact with Morirama. "Take the mask off. We're talking man to man in here."

The Senju man nodded obediently and removed the porcelain. Danzō was slightly taken aback by how hard and harsh Morirama's brown eyes looked, considering this was Hashirama's son. His brain then reminded him that this was also Tobirama's nephew. "You're satisfied with how this turned out for you? I'm surprised. I thought you were interested in being Hokage."

"Make no mistake, Morirama. As much as I want that position, I've realized it's out of my reach. If the people of this village chose to reject my friend as Hokage and held an election…_you'd _be Sandaime. Not me."

In that scenario, Danzō knew he wouldn't have the ANBU position, either. The Hokage would have continued to sit as the Head of ANBU instead of splitting his duties in half. Although Tobirama had someone delegate and prioritize ANBU orders, he still ran it. Hiruzen had in-effect created this as a new position for Danzō. It was his consolation prize.

Morirama lowered his head, brow furrowed. "But they didn't contest his claim," he uttered. "As much as it shocked me, the village accepted him blindly."

"Considering what your wife's clan did to ensure your uncle was elected last time; does that really surprise you? Everyone was so traumatized by the last election that it felt safer to simply go along with Lord Second's wishes than start that bloody process all over again."

A slow sigh escaped Morirama's lips. No matter how much it irked him to think somebody younger and less experienced would remain his superior, he had no further ground to contest anything. He couldn't even play the corruption card unless he wanted to be tried for treason.

'_And wouldn't that be ironic?' _he thought. _'Senju Hashirama's last remaining son...a traitor to the village...'_

But he wouldn't. Not now, not ever. The village came first, no matter how distasteful the men running it were. "Then I owe it to my new Hokage to guard him with my life and unwavering loyalty. And you, I suppose."

"You owe it to the village, not any individual." Danzō slid the paper forward to Morirama. "I'm giving you a choice. We have a diplomat from a minor country coming to visit at the end of the week. Hiruzen needs someone to guard him. I also need someone reliable to quash a problem in the Land of Earth. Our intel died believing that the Hidden Stone and Hidden Cloud are about to band together in a unified assault against us."

Morirama read over the notes, but felt ill when he realized this report was in Yamanaka Osamu's handwriting. '_That poor child. She wasn't even thirteen. Father...if you could see what our world has turned into, you'd be ashamed._ _You changed nothing._ _Children still die and clans still wage wars._'

"Where is the rally point?" Morirama inquired. "Did the prisoner give us a location?"

"Considering where the last assault was, we're looking at a rally point in either the Land of Frost or the Land of Hot Water." Danzō sighed. "And come to think of it, it may be best if I send _two _teams to investigate those locations."

"But someone has to stay behind for the diplomat, right? Where is this ambassador coming from?"

"The Land of Moors." There was a long silence. "Far in the opposite direction." And the more Morirama seemed to avert his gaze, the more Danzō recognized his discomfort. "I take it you remember—"

"Both times the Akane Clan came here before? Yes. I was present for both. The first time their clan head came here, my mother had my sister nine months later. I remember the nasty rumors people were spreading. They said she was unfaithful to my father, but she wasn't! It was just, well..._ahem_..."

"Akane pheromones paired with an Uzumaki's stamina?" Poor Hashirama. That _was_ a bad combination. "I take this to mean you'd rather not be present when this person arrives?"

Judging from the look of disgust on Morirama's face, Danzō had his answer.

"Very well. I'll stay behind and make sure the Hokage's meeting ends on a favorable note. You'll stop our enemies from making that alliance. We can't afford to have you fail, Morirama. If Iwagakure and Kumogakure join forces, we'll lose the war."

Morirama's breathing had turned heavy. As tough a face as he put on, Danzō noted his white knuckles. "I understand. You can count on me…but which nation is more likely to be the meet point? Yugakure would make more sense. It's less travel time for the Iwagakure shinobi, but Shimogakure is right next door to the Land of Lightning. It—"

"You've been an ANBU captain as long as I've been a shinobi, my friend. I trust your judgment."

Morirama faked a smile, fighting the temptation to remind Danzō that they weren't friends at all. "You're a smart man, Danzō. The Sandaime's not going anywhere anytime soon, so you'll have plenty of time to learn how ANBU works."

"Right."

"I can take a four-man cell with me, right?"

"Yes. Of course you can."

...

...and leave it to that man to be obnoxiously competent at his job. Two additional ANBU and one professional medic: _that_ was Morirama's demand. When Danzō pointed out the ANBU didn't have any qualified medics, his disgruntled subordinate gave another fake smile and insisted he had one in mind.

'_Smarmy ass, trying to make me look bad...' _

But the more Danzō contemplated it, the more he realized just how shrewd this was. He had immediately rejected the thought of Biwako joining that party, which meant he'd be more likely to accept Morirama's second choice: Torifu's wife.

"What's the matter? Not enjoying your cushy new job?"

Danzō glanced up from his soba noodles to turn his gaze toward his teammate. Torifu and his wife invited him over for lunch today, hoping to find out more about his ANBU position. To their frustration, the Shimura was tight-lipped. "Not really."

"A promotion is _still _a promotion," his friend's wife reminded him. "Hiruzen didn't promote Torifu, Danzō. Just remember that."

Torifu made a faint huffing noise from his small nose and took a strong, hearty swig of a murky liquid his wife poured from a tea kettle. Whatever it was, it was cold, smelled slightly rotten, and fizzed.

"I'm glad he didn't," Torifu barked. "It means I'll have to put up with a lot less drama. Danzō can have it all. I'm just going to take this time to focus on the more important things in life."

"Like family?" The way his wife smiled merrily at him, it was clear that was on both their minds. Torifu smiled back and took another sip of the drink. "Do you like the kombucha, dear?"

"The kombuwhat?"

"It's fermented tea with a live culture," Torifu explained loudly. "It helps with digestion." He then pulled up closer to whisper in his friend's ear, "I drank some too fast earlier and I can still feel it in my nose. Amai swears it's healthy, but..._ugh_."

"It _is_, okay?" Amai snapped. "I can hear you, Torifu! If you don't like it, then don't drink it!" Once both men stopped complaining, she took a seat between them. "I had a question for you, Danzō. Senju Morirama came by earlier. He asked if I'd be amenable to providing medical care on an important ANBU mission. Do you know anything about this?"

"He did that on my orders, Amai. I told him he could pick who he wanted. This mission is critical."

"Did that ass know you're pregnant?" Torifu hissed. "I don't trust that guy. Morirama was a dick when we were kids and he's a dick now. If you're working with him, Danzō, then..." Danzō slowly nodded his head. He sipped the drink, trying to forget the fact it was rotten tea with a live yeast culture. The very thought turned his stomach.

"You said this mission is critical?" Her face was so serene. "Could it stop the war?"

"The war will stop for sure if you _don't_ go," Danzō informed her. "And not in our favor, either. But if you can't make it, I'll tell him to find another medic and—"

"I'll go, but Morirama needs to understand my limitations. I'm not putting my unborn child at risk."

Danzō wanted to tell Amai that she was a fool. Equally, he wanted to tell her she was brave. Most of all, he wanted to beg her to reconsider. But any of that would alarm Torifu, which he didn't want. "...he'll understand."

...

"You'll be good for your grandmother and your mother while I'm on my mission, won't you?" Morirama wanted to walk his daughter to school before he left. Even though he was in full uniform, everyone inside the village knew who the boar mask belonged to. They saw him pass by and greeted him in respect and recognition, all for his father's sake.

They greeted Tsunade, too. She was the Honorable Granddaughter: her family's bright little sunbeam. But she wouldn't be the only grandchild for long. In a few more months, a baby brother or sister would be all hers to cherish and love.

'_...or hold under the covers and tickle until the poor kid begs for mercy.'_ Morirama had been the eldest of three. Both his sister and brother were now dead, both from failed ANBU missions. Still, he remembered what it was like to be so much older than his siblings. Tsunade was either going to love being a big sister or go mad with power. And considering his child took after her _mother_, Morirama suspected the latter. "I swear, if I receive a message from your grandmother saying you gave her a hard time—"

"You won't!" Tsunade grinned, showing off her three missing teeth. Both incisors fell off at the same time, as had a bicuspid. "I'll be good!" Morirama saw the beginnings of a tooth coming back, but it still had a long way to go. "Are ya going somewhere far, far away?"

"I sure am, princess."

And Morirama wasn't entirely sure if he'd be coming back. The more he looked over the scope of the mission, the more dangerous it seemed.

'_Danzō swore to me that he'd send a second team if my hunch about Yugakure is wrong; but I don't trust him._ _I may have to split my squad in two, just to cover both potential rally points.'_

Danzō made him swear something else, too. Morirama vowed to not only come back victorious, but return with his entire party. If he kept his vow, Danzō would concede. He'd tell Hiruzen that he was the wrong choice for the ANBU position and turn it over. And for once, Hiruzen would have to choose the most qualified man instead of a favorite. Danzō could learn, sure, but this was for the village first and foremost.

'_We'll all come home_,' Morirama reassured himself. '_I'll hold my new baby in my arms. Bear can return in time to see his son graduate from Academy. Hawk—'_

"Can you get me a souvenir?" Tsunade batted her brown eyes playfully, snuggling closer to her father for warmth. The last frost of March bit the air. Happy clouds of huffed breath left her nose. "Like some of their money if they use a different kind?"

That girl loved money. And if Morirama traveled anywhere that had a different currency, he always saved his change so his daughter could collect it. "They use different money there. That's all I can tell you, honey. It's classified."

A whine of annoyance left Tsunade's mouth. She dug her heels into the dirt and refused to go closer to Academy. "Why do you have to go, anyway?" she growled. "Can't Hawk go instead? Or Bear?" They'd been around so many times that Tsunade recognized their masks. "Or Kozue-_san_?"

No. Not in heaven or hell would he permit Kozue to do this. His last remaining teammate had suffered enough already. "No, Tsu. The Hokage's second-in-command made it perfectly clear that this is a job that only _I_ can do."

Her grab on his hand started to slip. Finally, Tsunade let go and sulked toward the school. "Don't forget about me out there, 'kay?"

Why did she have to say that? Didn't she realize that he was throwing his life away to give her a peaceful world? That even if he _didn't_ come back, that maybe she could become a genin just in time to know peace instead of war? Under his mask, Morirama felt hot and ashamed. "Don't forget me, either."

Nothing in the world felt better than those tiny arms wrapping around his waist. His daughter hugged him as tightly as she could, burying her face in his strong barrel chest. "I love you, '_tou-san_."

"...I love you, too, Tsu. Now be good."

Tsunade ran into the school, not even bothering to look back. Morirama stood for a while, watching as his daughter's ponytail bounced with every skip and step. Several little girls surrounded her, praising her for her cute shoes and her nice backpack. '_She's loved_._ Even if I don't make it back, at least I know she's surrounded by an entire village that loves her. Tsunade...I mean it. Please be good. Please...keep growing...and don't—'_

A narrow, long-fingered hand touched his shoulder. "Reporting for duty, captain."

Morirama turned around to see both Hawk and Bear at full attention. There, beside them, was the friendliest-looking brunette he'd ever seen. "Don't worry, everyone." The words were hard to say. "We'll be home again before we know it."

But Hawk caught something with her sharp eyes. At the very bottom of Morirama's boar mask, tears dripped.


	9. Littler Worlds

Koharu fanned herself, even though the office was quite cold. Her entire face felt flush because she could scarcely contain her excitement. This would be her first opportunity to meet a foreign diplomat as an important party! "You said the Land of Moors ambassador is a lady?"

"Yeah. She's the Captain of the Guard, too!" Hiruzen could barely contain his excitement. "I figured that after I'm finished talking business and politics with her, the two of you could have a little girl time together. Maybe visit a tea shop or get a massage? I want her to feel comfortable here: like Konoha could be a second home."

More like he wanted to show off. The Hidden Knolls, the shinobi village their guest hailed from, was much smaller than the Hidden Leaf. Not only did it have fewer amenities, but that village had undergone a harsh economic recession over the past few years. Any guest of the Hokage deserved to be pampered while on Konoha soil.

"Even though she's probably an Akane? Just be careful, Koharu. If she is, don't touch her or get in a hot spring with her."

'_Did you have to bring that up, Homura?'_ One of Hiruzen's eyelids twitched. First, Danzō made a few choice comments about _those people_. Now Homura was hopping onto the anti-Akane bandwagon, too? He didn't understand what the big deal was! If anything, Hiruzen was eager to see what such a woman would be like. He was a young man, not to mention single. If his guest was beautiful and single, then perhaps—

"Why?" Koharu raised one of her thin eyebrows at her friends, not quite sure what that warning meant.

Today, she'd chosen to wear one of her more eye-catching outfits: a beautiful crimson mandarin top with a black pencil skirt and pumps. As always, her brown hair was neatly pulled back like a pair of dango on a stick, save for the thick bangs draping over the left side of her face. Hiruzen noted the extra makeup, not to mention the perfect new paint job on Koharu's fingernails. They twinkled like little jewels when they caught the light.

'_For heaven's sake, Koharu. You're putting more effort into this than you would for a date!' _Hiruzen wasn't sure what triggered such behavior from his teammate, but he didn't dare complain.

"The Land of Moors is home to the Akane Clan. Their bodies secrete a potent aphrodisiac." Danzō stood in the doorway, also dressed to the nines. Homura always tended to dress trendy, so nothing seemed out of character for him. Koharu and Danzō, though? Hiruzen tried to contain his laughter.

The last time Hiruzen had seen his best friend dress this nicely had been for Torifu's wedding…or Kagami's. They married around the same time, so Hiruzen already forgot which one Danzō attended and which one he'd missed, only to later insist he'd been sick.

"...oh?"

"Don't sound so intrigued, Koharu. It's disgusting. If enough of that chemical enters your bloodstream, you'll hallucinate, hyperventilate, and lose consciousness. It might even kill you."

Koharu fanned herself faster, finding her way to a seat. She kept both of her long legs together: ankle to ankle and knee to knee. "Well, if that's the case; then I suppose we should keep the windows open!"

...

'_You called March the season where everything began anew. Where is your spring, then? All I can see for miles and miles is snow-laden ground.' _

Morirama pulled his scarf closer to his body and shivered. He wasn't the only one to do so. Hawk stood close by at all times, occasionally sticking her hands inside her armor in an attempt to thaw her half-frozen digits. She exhaled heavily, leaving clouds in the air.

Unable to bear the thought of his friend contracting frostbite, Morirama surrendered a pair of hand-knitted gloves to the woman. "Take these. They're from my wife."

Hawk hesitated a couple of seconds before accepting the gift. The gloves were a few sizes too large for her, though her long fingernails threatened to poke out of the fingertips. "I'll try my best not to rip them apart. Thanks, Boar."

"Don't worry about it." Morirama patted his friend on the back. Hawk had been his squad partner since his twentieth birthday, but he'd never learned her real name. Like a true member of Black Ops, Hawk used the code name all the time and gave away nothing about where she came from or what she did in her free time.

The only thing he did know about Hawk was what she looked like, though he seldom saw her in the village. Beneath the mask, she had a perfectly symmetrical and almost doll-like face with long eyelashes, garnet eyes, and rosy lips. Her eyebrows were so thin and pale that they were almost invisible.

'_Do you have a family that's going to miss you if you don't come back? A husband, maybe? If you do, you've given off no indication...'_

"I'm sure she'll knit another pair if they fall apart," But judging from the way Hawk twitched, something was up. "You don't think we'll make it home, do you?"

Hawk's hands hung limp at her sides: knuckles pink and swollen from the cold. Morirama didn't have to see her face to know what sort of expression lurked beneath that mask. "When you said goodbye to your daughter earlier, I saw your—"

"I never could hide anything from you, could I?" That would make these next words that much more difficult to say. "I'm trying to put on a good face for the others and hold onto hope; but it's going to take a miracle for us to make it out of this alive."

"Maybe we won't need one." Hawk lifted her head to the stars. In the colder nights, the sky always seemed more vibrant. Distant worlds shone back upon them: glittering the night like diamonds on a black velvet backdrop. "We have you, don't we?"

Rations were low. Bear managed to catch an owl last night and had it roasting over a small fire. Even if they all curled close together, the early spring frost felt deadly and dangerous.

"Just think...we could be soaking in warm water if we chose to infiltrate Yugakure." Hawk shivered. "I can't feel my fingers anymore."

Morirama slowly nodded. "But evidence seems to point to Shimogakure being the meeting point." It was so far north that the snow never fully thawed in the Land of Frost. And March was such a cold, relentless month. "If we don't find them, there's a chance we could—"

"Stop talking like that. Tell me instead what you and your daughter are going to do when you come home."

This was why he saw Hawk as more of a friend than a comrade. When he turned to face Hawk, the tusk from his mask touched her beak. "I have a baby on the way," he began, gesturing for their other teammates to follow along. Just a few more hours and they'd reach their destination. "A son this time."

"Another -rama like you?"

"No...we decided on _Nawaki_." And the more he thought about this, the more he wished he could turn around and run back to his wife. '_What sort of a village am I leaving my family to? If I don't come home, who will check on my mother? My wife can still fall back on her clan and take the kids with her, but my mother...oh gods...'_

"Have you painted a room for him yet?"

"Hawk, I—"

"If not, Bear and I can come by to help you do that when we're home."

Morirama understood what Hawk was trying to do, and he appreciated it. This small talk was an attempt to distract him from the daunt task ahead. Just as he smiled and lied to the team about his reassurance that they'd make it out in one piece, she'd play this little lie with him to soften the blow.

"Sure..." He'd rather smile than weep anyway. "What color should I choose?"

...

Danzō kept peeking out the window of the Hokage tower, wondering when the diplomat would arrive. All the way leading to the tower, half the Konoha flags had temporarily been replaced with the emblem of the shinobi village within the Land of Moors: Koyamagakure, the Village Hidden in the Knolls. The logo sat in eggshell white across a bruised violet.

"Have you ever visited that country?" he asked Koharu.

Homura was busy prepping Hiruzen: giving his robes and hat a second look over to make sure he and the office were in perfect condition for the visit. He had a finer eye for detail and finesse than anyone else on the team. Danzō marked it up to Homura's pseudo-aristocratic upbringing. Prior to Konoha's existence, Homura's father served as an undercover bodyguard in the Daimyo's court.

He could hear the two men talking in the other room. Rather, he heard the increasing frustration in Homura's voice and Hiruzen's progressively louder laughs. Such, Koharu told him, was the soundtrack to most _Team Tobirama_ missions.

As the two of them sat on the windowsill, Danzō noted that the only two things keeping him from seeing all the way up Koharu's skirt were an almost strategic layer of shadows and his own dignity. "Not that I remember it, Danzō; but yes."

That caught his attention. "Was it before the village was founded?" Koharu nodded. "You must have been quite young."

"I was about two, I think; but I'm fairly sure my parents took me on that route. They regularly disguised themselves as silk merchants to the northwest of here." That would put them in the right location. "But I suppose that's so long ago that it doesn't count. What about you, Danzō?"

"I fought an Akane before," Danzō answered. Just thinking about it made his skin crawl. "When we both ran out of weapons, she took her clothes off and pounced on me." Koharu's cheeks turned red. She was appalled that a woman would use such a lewd tactic! "I'm fortunate that my grandfather found me before it was too late. I don't know what made me feel sicker: the pheromones or the antidote."

He'd vomited and hallucinated for days. If he managed to collapse into a sweaty sleep, it seldom lasted long. All his dreams involved lightly brushing his skin, only for it to slew off and show the festering yellow and purplish pulp beneath. Later, body parts fell off in the dreams. In one, he'd stood up to take a piss, only for his manhood to fall off and land in the basin.

"Cinnamon, white pepper, and cardamom," he murmured. "With a dash of musk. That's what it smelled like." Perhaps Koharu didn't think that was bad. "Just be careful, alright? If the rumors about Lady Mito are true, then the effects are even stronger on women."

"I assume you'll be watching my back during this visit, then?"

"I wish I could, but I have a Hokage to babysit. You're on your own." Koharu reached for a shuriken and lightheartedly threw it at him. Danzō caught it with two fingers and returned it. "I don't know much more about this diplomat other than she's—"

A small gasp left Koharu's lips because a figure caught her attention downstairs. A statuesque brunette in bright saffron yellow approached, wearing shiny black armor on top of what was surely a regal ensemble. The long skirt split into a front and back piece, with the back piece trailing behind like the tail of a phoenix. With each step, the pair could see the woman's black silk full-length pants beneath the Land of Moors' traditional _ao dai_.

"Is that her?"

"I think so."

But she didn't look even _remotely _Akane! They were a petite clan with tiny bones, fragile frames, and auburn hair typically worn in elaborate braids. Even in their most formal attire, large amounts of skin were exposed in warmer months; but Danzō recognized the clothing style.

The women of the Land of Moors wore such garments for their most important events. This one was far taller, curvier, and more muscular than he expected. '_Our lungs are safe, then. She isn't Akane.'_

Koharu squinted, trying to get a closer look before the woman made her way to the tower. Several people stood to watch: too scared to approach. Behind the woman were several ANBU-esque ladies sporting matching white masks: all with two black crescent moon eyes and a ghastly red smile that stretched from ear to ear.

Their leading lady carried herself like a conquering general: chest outward, chin up, face firm and stoic. '_What are we getting ourselves into? Just how many are there?' _Danzō was transfixed and unable to look away until he heard a small noise come from Koharu. "What?"

"I can already tell I'll dislike her," Koharu growled. "Finger waves look so trashy..."

"Of all the things you could complain about, you're focusing on her_ hair_?" Danzō rolled his eyes and gestured toward the approaching group. "A foreign nation has an ANBU program we didn't know about! Don't you think that's a little more important than—"

The doors swung open. Hiruzen's grinning face made it clear he had no fear in his heart. If anything, he was excited. "They're here! Did you see her outside?"

"It was kind of hard _not_ to," Koharu murmured. "All that awful tacky yellow..."

Hiruzen held out his right arm, palm flat toward the ground. "Well, here's to making history! This is my first diplomatic meeting with a foreign nation. Let's work together to make sure this goes well! All in?"

"I'm in," Homura placed his hand atop Hiruzen's. Koharu went next and gave her teammate a prim, proper smile. Danzō looked at the three and gave a salute before politely bowing, heading for the door. That confused Homura a bit. He turned his head toward Danzō and gave him a nervous look. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm welcoming her to our village."

...

Even though the Hidden Snow was a fellow shinobi village, it was much smaller and far less stable than the maturing major nations. Kumogakure was to their south and Yugakure to their west. In either direction, a nasty neighbor resided.

By the time Morirama's team arrived in the afternoon, only a handful of brave men and women walked the streets alone. Most walked in small gangs and squads, making sure not a single blind spot was unaccounted for. Children held hands so tightly that they occasionally winced in pain.

Every window and door was boarded up. Many had messages written on them with chalk.

**"We have no food or valuables. Go away."**

**"We're sick. If you enter, you will die."**

If the Hidden Stone and Hidden Cloud chose this place to rendezvous, then all Morirama felt for the locals was pity. '_Is this what happens to the smaller nations when we go to war? One more major altercation and this entire village could fall apart!'_

He could only hope their actions in Shimogakure would put the war to a halt. If peace came out of this, it would all be worthwhile. And if he came home alive, then perhaps he could push for more missions abroad. Konoha was partially responsible for these poor conditions. Maybe if he could give back, at least a little, then some of the guilt building in his heart would dissipate.

Something about the pace felt so much slower with the gray skies and rime. Shinobi lived here, but they weren't part of this war. They merely passed it by, begging their larger neighbors to leave them be.

An old woman passed them on the street, grunting and huffing for air as she pulled a cart behind her. A slate-colored tarp covered the contents, but Morirama caught a glimpse and swallowed heavily. A bloodless, graying arm covered in black blisters swung like a pendulum from the edge of the cart. From the tiny bit of paint left on the fingernails, he could tell the corpse was a woman.

"Put the masks away," he whispered to the others. "The headbands, too."

"You don't have to do that, Konoha shinobi," the woman murmured as she passed them. Morirama had expected her to shy away or walk faster in an opposite direction of them. Instead, she staggered along like a tortoise with a set destination in mind. "We're more afraid of the plague than we are of you."

'_Plague?_'

Bear tried taking a closer look at what was under the tarp, only for the woman to swat his wrist with a cane. "Are you insane!? It's contagious, you stupid foreigner! If you touch them, you'll—" The old woman coughed, hugging her abdomen in an attempt to make the pain stop. She lost her balance, threatening to collapse; but Morirama caught her.

Sick or not, it was too cruel to leave her like that when he had a medical kit. "Hawk!"

"Sir?"

"I have some laudanum to help with the coughing." Just a few drops and her haggard face would turn serene from being able to breathe again. "_Oba-san_?" The old woman weakly blinked at him. "Where is your home?"

An arthritic finger pointed toward a tiny house at the far corner of the main thoroughfare. The woman coughed again, curling her head into the Senju man's broad chest. "You're gonna die. You know that?"

"I'm gonna die whether I help you or not," he barked back. Hawk and Bear knew, but the Akimichi woman in their company apparently didn't. Her eyes grew wide upon hearing such damning words. All she could do was look down at her belly and hug it.

That baby…that _poor_ baby…

...

Danzō kept leaning in his chair, wondering what on earth his ANBU were discussing with the masked women accompanying the Land of Moors ambassador. He couldn't find a single man among them.

A large plate of apricots was presented as the preliminary course to the meal. Seidou, the diplomat, reached for one and used a small knife to remove the pit before eating. "My childhood home had an apricot tree. We can't grow them in the Hidden Knolls. We used to import them from your country, but..."

Danzō took in a deep breath because he knew what was coming.

"Your last Hokage refused to trade with us." Seidou had a right to be angry. For a location where trade made up a high percentage of their national income, losing one of their three major trade partners plunged them into a nasty recession.

"You and your ladies may take as many as you wish," Hiruzen assured her, trying to cut the tension in the room. It wasn't working. "You're among friends, Lady Seidou."

One of Seidou's girls laughed in the hall, whispering something to one of Danzō's men. He wasn't sure what they were talking about, but he noticed the dirty look Seidou shot her subordinate. The girl stopped giggling immediately. "That's good to hear. I wasn't sure if the Hidden Leaf would be amenable to discussing the future of the Hidden Knolls, especially considering how past negotiations went..."

'_It's different this time,' _Danzō thought. '_Yours is the first non-Akane face we've encountered from the Hidden Knolls and you're in a position of power.'_

"It almost feels like a fresh start, doesn't it?" Hiruzen raised a glass, hoping his guest would do the same.

"No." Seidou's eyes remained on her apricot. She was determined to pry the black pit out of the core. "If I'm being honest, it feels like I'm being wined and dined."

Homura cleared his throat. Koharu, on the other hand, smiled and leaned forward a bit more at the table. "My friend has only been Hokage for about a week," she informed the foreigner. "But I promise you that this visit is _not_ a waste of your time." Unless she tried to dump the Akane Clan on Konoha's doorstep.

"You're fairly new to your position, too. Aren't you, Lady Seidou?"

"No, Lord Hokage. I have been my village's Captain of the Guard for six years now."

"Good for you," Homura grumbled, poking at his meal. Had Danzō not been paying close attention, he wouldn't have heard the Mitokado man. The others didn't hear him at all.

"Six years?" Hiruzen blinked a few times and grinned. "That's incredible! You've really caught my attention!"

Seidou placed the pit on the side of her plate and blinked slowly. Her gaze never turned away from Hiruzen. "I don't know what that means. Is it the _good_ kind of attention? Lord Hokage–"

"Please. Call me Hiruzen. I'm still getting used to my position."

Seidou smirked at that and took a slow sip from her glass. "Well, _Hiruzen, _I'm hoping your tenure as Hokage will be far more favorable toward my village than your predecessor's was."

It all depended on what the Hidden Knolls could offer. Opening that trade route again would make it easier to sneak into Iwagakure or Sunagakure, but other routes could be taken. Plus, that corner of the world was known for their spices and precious stones. Having access to those materials again would—

Homura cleared his throat. Some part of this conversation had offended him, not that it was difficult to do such a thing. "I'm not sure if you are aware of this, madam; but the Second Hokage was our mentor. He could be a very severe man at points, but he always acted in the best interest of this village. And even you, Lady Seidou_,_ have to admit that your village's Akane Clan are too dangerous to be taken lightly."

"Oh, you think they're dangerous _here_? Try living with them sometime." By now, Danzō heard no commotion whatsoever between the ANBU and Seidou's women. They were quiet, all masked faces turned to Hiruzen's dining room. Seidou's remark had changed the atmosphere of the conversation. That whole time, Danzō expected their guest to hold strong protective feelings for the Akane, but she didn't.

"Their clan head thought he'd travel the world in search of bigger, stronger allies," Seidou continued in a cold, firm tone. "I'm convinced he'll eventually come back here, considering he tried with the First _and_ the Second...but he's presently being held as a political hostage in Sunagakure."

Danzō originally suspected that evening would be little more than a dry political dinner with dull foreign company. This was anything but! '_This isn't only about lifting the embargo,' _he realized. '_She wants us to endorse a purge.'_

"I'm sure your masked women will free him, of course?" Koharu put a morsel of food between her lips and ate. "The Akane are your village's only shinobi clan. For them to go headless–"

"A decapitated government may be what my village needs to heal itself, at least in the short term. Your country's embargo, paired with the Akane Clan's spendthrift tendencies, has left us completely bankrupt. While I'm eating your village's lovely apricots, my people are eating rats. Some of the more desperate households are even resorting to cannibalism."

Seidou never touched her main course, let alone her dessert. She'd made a small meal off apricots only, but refused to eat another bite. The very reminder that her people were starving was enough to deter her.

'_You're grabbing your glass tight enough to shatter it. All you need is a little more pressure._' And considering the muscles Danzō noted on Seidou's arms, he was convinced she could do so easily. Even under pretty saffron brocade and rhinestones, a powerful body was still a powerful body. This woman was in better shape than he was.

"And if the Akane head escapes Sunagakure and attempts to come here..." Hiruzen never took his eyes off Seidou. "What would you have us do? Turn him away?"

"That depends on how you want the future of our villages to play out. The Akane were our past. My _sensō-onna _are our future." Seidou's dark blue eyes turned toward Danzō. He smirked at her, but she didn't return the smile. "The time may come when I ask Konoha to do the most difficult thing possible: _nothing_."

...

"Lady Seidou is taking a bath." Danzō said this with such assurance that Hiruzen believed him. "I'll have her every motion monitored while she's here. I told her it was for her own protection, but she knows better."

Seidou knew the real reason for the ANBU detail was so her every move could be tracked and accounted for until she returned to the Land of Moors. Almost immediately, she tried to insist that her women were capable of defending her. They were specially trained: the finest in the Hidden Knolls. "I reassured her that we would do this for _any_ diplomat, not just her."

"Did she concede?" Hiruzen blew smoke rings out the window. "Or did she give you a hard time?"

"You saw her at dinner, Hiruzen. What do you think?" He'd leave the Hokage to believe Seidou continued to put up a fight. "I was able to negotiate with her and learn a bit more about what she specifically wants for her village."

"And…? You didn't promise anything, did you?"

He did.

"No." The lie came out so easily. "But we have an understanding now. She's a rising star, Hiruzen. In another ten years, we might see Lady Seidou take over that village. If we back her, it could be shorter than that. Right now, she has her people's backing."

"Yes, and we still have the _Great War_ to think about! I can't stick our nose into another nation's civil war until we finish our war!"

"Morirama's working on that."

Hiruzen put his drink down and stared at Danzō as though he'd never seen him before. "You actually sent him to—"

"You and I both know Yugakure and Shimogakure are death traps. He's not there to retrieve intel. He's there to end the war." And if Morirama succeeded, the Hidden Cloud and Hidden Stone wouldn't have another leg to stand on. "And die a hero, of course."

"If his brave sacrifice doesn't end in our favor, I'm proposing an armistice with the other Kages. The Kazekage sent me a message, Danzō. He says he's interested in a ceasefire. The Tsuchikage received a similar letter and he's considering it. Morirama's our last chance to actually _win_. If he fails, we'll sign the armistice. It's that simple."

Danzō sat across from his friend, accepting some of the tea Hiruzen laid out. "While we wait, you need to understand something. There are several disgruntled leaders and champions in the neighboring minor nations: people just like Lady Seidou. Their sad little countries are buffer zones between the major nations. If you befriend the leaders of those nations, those alliances could guarantee us the next war."

"I don't _want_ another war, Danzō."

"Like it or not, war keeps us in business. If world peace were ever achieved, what need would the feudal lords have for people like us? For our village, even?"

...

"Her coughing is very bad..." Amai placed a cold compress to the old woman's forehead. "_Oba-san_, do you have boils, too?" The woman couldn't answer. Even when her new medic tried to feed her some warm broth from a bouillon cube in her rations packet, all the woman did was cough and vomit.

"At least we all know now," Hawk decided somberly, resting her chin on her knees. She'd taken her hair out of her horn-like buns and let it slide across the floor. "There's no point in hiding it. We're probably going to die here."

On the way over, Morirama tried his best to prevent that sort of defeatist talk. Now that the truth was out, he felt a bit more relieved. He hated keeping secrets from his comrades. "I'm sorry, team. I think I made a bad call and doomed us all. What if the rally point was in Yugakure?"

"It could be, Boar. I think it's more likely that Danzō set us up." Hawk's sharp nails dug into her navy blue silk pants. "It's pretty ingenious on his part, don't you think? If you chose to attack in Yugakure, we'd be outnumbered by the enemy and die in combat. But you chose here. _Now _we'll die from whatever-the-hell plague is running rampant on the streets."

"At least you had the sense to bring a medic," Bear chimed in. "That was a good call! I thought she'd slow us down, but—"

The old woman stopped coughing. And considering Akimichi Amai wasn't crying or screaming, Morirama suspected the laudanum had taken effect. "She'll sleep without any trouble, Morirama-_taichou_. Just let her rest."

"What does she have? Bubonic plague?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I really only studied the fundamentals of medicine. This is..." Amai shook her head. "I have no idea what this is. You should have taken Sarutobi Biwako instead of me. She knows more about pathogens and germ warfare than I do."

No. He chose who he chose because Amai was married to one of Danzō's teammates. She was Morirama's insurance policy…or at least a successful way to drive a rift between Danzō and Torifu.

"Are we gonna contract it, too?" Hawk asked. "You heard that old woman. We'll—"

"Why do you have to be so negative, Hawk!? We could turn around and—"

"And _then _what?" Hawk stood up. "Return to Konoha? We still have a mission we haven't completed. If we return home without completing it, it's treason. And if we knowingly bring a virus back with us—and let's not kid ourselves. Everyone in this party has probably been infected by now—it's _also_ treason."

All those years of ANBU training were falling apart. Hawk buried her face in her hands and dug her nails into her scalp until her forehead started to bleed. "My life was just starting to come together. I just made captain. I bought my first house. My brother—"

"I'm gonna get us through this, okay? Just rely on my medicine. We'll make it out just fine. We'll recover and then we'll go to Yugakure. And then we'll take out the enemy and—"

The old woman shot upright as though somebody poked her with a cattle prod. Although she didn't cough, she vomited. A dark, brownish-red tar substance splattered out. And in it, like mold on top of soup, Morirama caught sight of flecks of white and pink.


	10. Fever Dream

"What are we supposed to do? Leave him here!?" Every finger on Ōtekkō's left hand flexed out and curled. Her husband saw the cracks in her skin and recognized the beginning of her fossilization technique. Before long, bone would turn to stone and jut out of the skin until her fist became a living mace. Her beet red lip trembled, so she bit it until a thin stream of blood dribbled out. "For heaven's sake, my uncle was—"

"Mū-_sama_ was critically injured fighting one of the few men on this continent who could dare to call himself his equal."

"Is that so?" Her black eyes met his: hot and angry. She let her shoulders turn lax and moved toward an offered chair. At first, he thought the argument had come to an end. Then she hit the chair with her stone fist and broke it in two. "I don't care who did it! I just care that our Tsuchikage is incapacitated!"

They heard a slow groan from the table. There, beneath the bloodied bandages, was the Nidaime Tsuchikage: alive, but barely so. Mū, the infamous Non-Person of the Hidden Stone, served his nation well as Tsuchikage for a solid chunk of time. However, in the end, it was Hozuki Gengetsu, the Nidaime Mizukage, who came out of the battle triumphant.

That horrid laugh continued to ring in Ōnoki's head. No wonder those bastards called themselves the Bloody Mist. "It's too late to turn around. Now that Mū-_sama_'s unable to fight, were we to unbandage him...he'd turn invisible. Nobody would find him."

"Feh," his wife hissed, peeling some of the stone off her hand. "I think you forgot the fact we're also at war with the Hidden Leaf, _darlin'_. They have those wretched dog-people at their beck and call."

"Ōtekkō, _dear_?" Ōnoki hissed. "The last thing I need right now is your back-talk." Ōtekkō's sarcastic smirk remained on her lips, though, and that bothered him. Although Ōtekkō was Mū's niece, he'd considered her an ill match for his student: calling her brash, abrasive, and unladylike.

It was too little too late. Ōnoki could see that now. If he tried reminding Ōtekkō that a wife's place was at her husband's side, to support and obey, she'd just laugh at him. _If that's really what you want_, she'd say, _then come at me and make me!_

Ōnoki knew he'd be Sandaime Tsuchikage someday, but Mū had been at the peak of health. He should have lasted another ten to twenty years! Instead, his dynasty would carry on through his student—provided Mū didn't survive his injuries. The whole situation looked pretty grim. Only a little more damage and he'd be gone forever.

The Hidden Stone never held elections. They merely accepted whoever the predecessor appointed and they all knew Ōnoki came next. At 31, this would make him the youngest man to ever hold the Tsuchikage rank.

'_No pressure,' _his wife had teased. '_It's only the fate of our world in your hands.'_

But how low would he have to be to speed up the inevitable? In the end, he knew he'd never be able to do that. He respected his sensei far too much!

"I'm not back-talkin' you!" Ōtekkō snapped. "I'm just saying you should escort my uncle back to the village. My brother and I can rendezvous with the Raikage in Yugakure and see what this backdoor deal means for us." Ōnoki watched as his wife stomped out of the war camp. Her long black hair was tied back into a tight low braid with a green ribbon at the bottom. It dragged against the dirt, collecting dust with her split ends.

Already, he could hear the snide remarks from the men in his tent. "What kind of spineless beta male sends his wife to do his dirty work? Shouldn't _Ōtekkō-sama _return with Mū-_sama_ so Ōnoki-_sama_ can represent us _properly_ in the interim?"

"Ssssssh," another shinobi whispered. "If this turns out to be a trap; we're sending in the Explosive Corps, anyway. One way or another, the Hidden Leaf won't be our problem anymore."

'_That's right_,' Ōnoki thought. '_This time, we'll end it once and for all.'_

...

It started as a tickle in the back of Morirama's throat. The nasal drip led to nausea after enough mucus irritated his stomach lining. The cough sounded wet at first, with plenty of phlegm leaving the body. His lungs rattled. Pieces of his sickness jiggled inside his ailing lungs. Now the snot stuck like tar and required great force to cough anything out. Most of the time, he only managed to free some of the cement-like gunk. Most of what came out was blood or some other fluid he was too afraid to identify.

All he could do was wheeze, make an occasional guttural noise to unclog his airway enough to breathe, and keep going. And yet the cough was nothing compared to the sores. That one time Tsunade lost her balance and spilled scalding water on his left leg hurt less than this.

He felt the boils all the way down to his bones: sucking away any nutrients his failing body stored to keep him alive. They burst at random, oozing their foul-smelling contents until the fabric of his garments absorbed the putrescence. When they popped, they left weepy red craters behind. In some, he saw nothing but slick, angry-red flesh. In others, he swore he saw bone.

Bear contracted the illness first. Shortly afterward, their kindhearted young medic followed suit. They were two mounds buried beneath the permafrost.

"We're lucky I can do fire jutsu," Hawk murmured, placing a few dead flowers on the two graves. "Otherwise we wouldn't have been able to break the earth at all." It felt like stone, made more difficult on account of their own failing health.

She coughed. Flecks of scarlet and yellow left her blistered lips. The noise was so loud that she eventually placed a skeletal hand over her mouth to stifle it. Morirama reached to help. She swatted his hand away, begging him to keep his distance.

The boils had begun to spread to Hawk's face: a few black pieces of blight against her milk-pale skin. Her eyes, already red in the iris, were now bloodshot from coughing too frequently. Conjunctival hemorrhaging was only natural. Morirama was sure his eyes looked similar.

But they couldn't eat. They couldn't drink. Anything they consumed came back up, either as puke or shit. Death wasn't an abstract threat awaiting them at the enemy camp. It was the slow-going horror of watching their own bodies betray them, not-so-slowly decaying while they were still alive.

'_Danzō knew. There's no way he couldn't have known…'_

Though Morirama had, too. Bear was a dear friend. Now he'd rot in peace alongside an innocent woman who, above all of them, didn't deserve to die like this. She had a baby on the way, just like his wife…and he'd picked her anyway.

"I didn't think we needed a medic," he confessed to Hawk. "I only brought her along because she was Akimichi Torifu's wife." Hawk stared at him with a glazed, dead expression. "Torifu is Danzō's teammate. They've been close friends for years."

"So that's why we didn't–"

"That woman was our insurance policy. I figured that if Danzō was comfortable letting her come along for the mission, then maybe we had a fair shot at coming home. And if we didn't…then at least I'd drive a wedge between him and Torifu. I deserve to die for this. You and Bear didn't."

Hawk leaned on him, resting a gaunt shoulder to Morirama's arm. Another weak cough left her lungs. He felt the dampness beneath her sleeve and realized one of her boils had ruptured. One of his popped as well, their juices intermingling. "When Lord Second first approached me to join ANBU, I took a vow to die for this village someday. I knew what I was getting into. So did you, Boar."

"Yes…" The tickle in Morirama's throat stung like fire. "But I never thought I'd turn into him. This…" He gestured toward the two graves. "This is the kind of thing _he _was known for pulling. I used to think my uncle was a great person: someone worthy of admiration and respect. Then, when my father died, I saw his true self."

Cold. Calculating. Merciless. _Cruel. _Willing to throw away even his own family if it meant preserving the village…

Morirama saw all of that in Shimura Danzō. Perhaps he wasn't as stoic as Tobirama yet, nor as quiet or polished; but he'd get there. It was abundantly clear who Danzō wanted to emulate, and it terrified Morirama to his core. It wouldn't matter what kind of Hokage Hiruzen planned to be. People like Danzō had a tendency to overshadow and darken perfectly good regimes.

"We aren't going home, Hawk."

"I know that."

"But if we do…we're killing him. I'll explain to the Third if I have to, but Danzō needs to die."

…

"That didn't go well, did it?"

They were alone in Hiruzen's home, without Koharu or Homura there to get in the way. This conversation was meant to be heard only by the two parties present: the Hokage and his right-hand. Hiruzen poured two cups of tea and gestured for Danzō to read over the armistice draft. "But it's like you said. There are many more village heads just like that woman. She's only one among many, and Koyamagakure is tiny. It's…ah. It would have been nice to agree to something, but I suppose we can't win them all."

"You won't need to worry about Seidou," Danzō informed Hiruzen. "I told you already. By the time she left, we came to an understanding." And that understanding would be best left in the shadows until Seidou's position as the head of the Hidden Knolls became official. "We aren't making a move, _any move_, with her village until she takes over. _Then _we'll negotiate."

It seemed the fairest answer. So long as a member of the Akane Clan sat in a leadership role, that village would never rest. If Seidou and her army of _sensō-onna_ were strong enough to come out triumphant, then and only then could she expect a major nation to negotiate with her in any serious capacity. Was she disappointed? Certainly, but at least she understood the logic behind Konoha's hesitation.

"You don't want to get caught up in a nation's plight when it's that unstable, Sarutobi. If we supported Koyama's losing side, the triumphant side would turn to Suna or Iwa in retaliation. I know Seidou seemed capable, but you can never be completely certain." Bet on a sure thing. Don't act impulsively. Consider before taking any true action. These were things his sensei had taught him.

"I know I'm changing subjects here, but have you heard anything from Morirama? It's almost been a week." Danzō held out a note and unfolded it. "May I?"

"And risk my Hokage contracting Shimogakure's plague?" The touch of amusement in Danzō's voice gave Hiruzen the chills. "Why are you looking at me like that? Weren't you the one to propose getting rid of him? Nature's going to take care of the dirty work for us."

The color drained in Hiruzen's face. "That may be so, but Morirama was still an admirable man. It would have been better had he made the correct choice and gone to Yugakure. Then, at least, he could have died a hero. If he collapses and dies on his way over there, he'll be completely forgotten."

But didn't he understand that was preferable? It was why Danzō slightly doctored the report: throwing more evidence toward Shimogakure being the enemy rally point. If anyone still wanted to argue Morirama would have made a better Sandaime than Hiruzen—and there were still a handful of people who did—then Danzō could remind those naysayers that their precious "Prince of Konoha" was too medically weak to complete a foreign mission.

Having Senju Morirama die from illness stripped him of his quasi-deification. It made him human. More than that, it made him a failure: someone who could easily be forgotten and discarded in the village's history. He would only be vaguely remembered as Hashirama's son or Tsunade's father…assuming Tsunade even became someone worth remembering.

"…not to mention we'd still know nothing about the inner doings of that conversation between the Raikage and Tsuchikage." Hiruzen noted his friend shook his head. "No? Did you assemble a second team?"

"I'm going to ask that you be patient this time and have a little more faith in Morirama."

"You said he contracted the plague. How could he—"

"He'll hold on long enough to deal some damage. Just be patient. Even if his own body turns against him, he'll hold on out of sheer spite until he makes his move." That was simply the kind of person he was. "But there's something I need to take care of." His friend's eyes were filled with worry. "There's, um…there's something Torifu needs to know…"

…

"I'm home." Not that Homura's father ever left it. Mitokado Miharu had been a recluse for twelve long, miserable years. These days, he paid a genin team to buy and deliver his groceries to the house. Even his medic had to schedule house calls just to see him and treat his badly mutilated mouth. "Are you writing?"

"What else would I be doing?" Miharu had once served as Hashirama's Director of Village Propaganda. And since he'd known and been close with the Fire Daimyo since they were children, Miharu remained the village's key point of contact with the feudal court. "And where were you? With the Hokage?"

"I was escorting the Land of Moors diplomat out of our borders." That woman had offended him greatly with the awful things she dared to say about Tobirama. To an extent, Homura understood her anger. Tobirama had ordered an embargo on all Land of Moors goods and demanded Konoha cease all trade in that region. That sudden removal from the trade system threw off the nation's entire economy. And if Seidou was to be believed, the situation was bad enough that families were abandoning daughters to focus on taking care of sons.

But Homura also knew just how little sympathy he'd receive for hearing ill words against his sensei. After all, his sensei was the sole trigger for Miharu's agoraphobia. When people campaigned for the Nidaime Hokage seat, Miharu's endorsement was sought after by the key candidates: Uchiha Kaizen, Shimura Daichi, Sarutobi Sasuke, Uzumaki Mito, and Senju Tobirama. Yet, gentleman that he was, Miharu vowed to stay neutral at all costs.

That decision cost him his handsome looks, not to mention the luxury of feeling safe any place other than home ever again. Uchiha Kaizen's supporters permanently disfigured Miharu's face by slicing his mouth open. Then came the threats to his child's safety. Homura remembered it one way, Miharu another. Homura recollected Tobirama giving him a place to stay as his father recovered from his injuries. Miharu recounted the story differently: saying Tobirama held Homura hostage as a bargaining chip, trying to twist his arm into an endorsement.

"I'll recount it for Archives later," Homura informed his father, "unless you'd rather hear me talk and write it down yourself. You have a way with words." He moved into the darker, dimmer part of the house and saw the series of scrolls at the desk.

Like him, Miharu had brown hair, a handsome face, and needed glasses. However, the scars from where his mouth was torn open remained: marring his otherwise dashing appearance. The wounds became infected multiple times, even reopening and requiring hospitalization for sepsis. Makeup could cover some of the redness, but Miharu and everyone else knew the scars would always be there.

"What are you writing, anyway?" Homura had a suspicion and dreaded the thought of being right. "Is it about my sensei again?"

After Tobirama's ashes were laid to rest, Miharu began publishing his personal memoirs. That included all sorts of terrible statements about the sort of jutsu Tobirama practiced in secret and how he covered up all his loose ends.

Senju Tobirama invented a jutsu that turns corpses into immortal slaves with full consciousness and no free will.

Senju Tobirama stole tissue samples from his own brother's body for continued research on the Mokuton.

Senju Tobirama created the Konohagakure Military Police Force in an attempt to stagnate the Uchiha Clan's influence in the village.

Senju Tobirama had Yamanaka Yanagi lobotomized to cover his own dirty tracks for the Nidaime ascension and to hide his ties with that nasty, sordid family.

'_Will Hiruzen leave such a legacy someday?_' That worried Homura deeply. '_Or will Koharu and I be enough to steady the course?_' Hiruzen's reputation as an overly affectionate flirt would probably doom him more than anything else. An international reputation as a womanizer and philanderer wouldn't do him any good. "I hope you won't write damning stories about _my_ friend, too."

"Now, why on earth would I do that?" Miharu dabbed the edge of his pen in a rich black ink. "Hiruzen has been a good friend to you. He didn't have to endow you and Koharu with councilor positions, but he insisted. He clearly thinks very highly of you. Danzō, too. Homura…"

Miharu took off his glasses, placing them at the desk. Maybe he'd written enough damning notes about Senju Tobirama for the day and could concentrate more on his son's recent success. "Take care of your Hokage. Support him and help him grow. Do for him what I did for Lord First."

…

Steam left the ground like ghosts giving greeting from the underworld. With his fever-burned eyes, Morirama felt he could see the hands waving in salutation: beckoning Hawk and himself to come hither to hell. The boar mask covered his face, as he knew it was the only way to bring enough moisture back to his cracked lips. Since both nostrils were clogged, he had to breathe from his mouth. It only came off when he needed to vomit up more of the tar-like substance. It stuck to his stomach, his intestines, his throat, his lungs, his nose…

Even something as basic as breathing had become a laborious endeavor. '_I'm barely getting any oxygen. I have to hyperventilate just to get enough air._' But his wheezing was nowhere near as bad as Hawk's. '_I wonder if we look anything like my uncle's living dead._'

He'd seen an _Edo Tensei_ once and it gave him nightmares for weeks. A woman from the now-defunct Hagoromo Clan knelt before the Hokage. Cracks appeared in her dry, pale skin. Her eyes were murky and dark. And every little thing Tobirama asked her to do, she did without question.

The earlier experiments skulked as they moved along: clumsy and uncoordinated. As Hawk staggered beside him, Morirama worried they wouldn't make it. '_The village is in sight. I kept track of the days. It's the right day. We aren't too late, but—_'

Hawk's body flopped to the ground as though her whole body had instantaneously been deboned. Morirama held out a hand. Hawk only turned her head in the other direction, refusing to get up. "We're almost there, Hawk. We could—"

"You can go," she rasped, "but I'm only going to slow you down." Very weakly, she lifted one arm, only so she could stroke her captain's leg. "I'm dying, Boar. I can't even feel my legs anymore." The numbness was spreading, going up her waist. Once it hit her other extremities, it would go to her lungs and heart. From there, she would suffocate until her brain lost all oxygen. Then would come true death. "Go. You're so close."

But she felt him do something else. Morirama sat beside her, giving her right hand a tight squeeze. She couldn't make out his expression from beneath the porcelain. '_Not that I want to. If you're going to break the 25__th__ Rule…_'

"Why aren't you leaving? You're sick, too…"

Hawk didn't see Morirama's tears, but she felt something wet trickle from beneath his mask. It was either tears or loose phlegm. Morirama made a few pained groans but pulled his arms around his teammate. "Scold me, if you want, but I'm not leaving my last comrade behind."

"Stupid man…" But it felt nice to be held.

…

**"Hawk." She saluted, standing at attention. "Effective today, your squad has a new captain." Tobirama had his right hand firmly placed on a brown-haired man's back. "This is Boar. No matter what happens, you're to watch his back. Understood?"**

**Hawk transferred into this program after Yamanaka Yanagi's kunoichi program was quashed. After years of studying all the dangerous ways a woman could infiltrate high court and change the course of history through seduction and lies; she was worried all her learned espionage skills would go to waste. **

**But Lord Second was a pragmatist who saw an opportunity when it approached. Any of Yanagi's former students could have flourished in this slight alteration in their initial methodology. Hawk, an unwanted love child between a Yūhi woman and an Utatane man, was one of his first choices for ANBU.**

**"I'm at your service, sir. If that is your order, I'll obey."**

**'****_I won't let you down_****,' in other words.**

**…**

**"You don't talk much, do you?" Her red eyes flickered with amusement. "You'll have to open your mouth to bark an order sooner or later, Boar."**

**"Morirama," he corrected her. "My name is Senju Morirama."**

**Hawk blinked quickly a few times, lilac eyelashes fluttering as she thought about where she heard that name before. "Oh? You're the Shodaime's son?" As he nodded, barely lifting his head to look at Hawk or Bear, she smirked. "You're playing a dangerous game, then. Get out of ANBU while you still can, Prince of Konoha. A whole lot of people are gonna miss you."**

**Morirama scowled, clearly in a sour mood. "Excuse you; I'm perfectly qualified to be here, Hawk!"**

**"That may be, but you lack something. Bear!" Her large, barrel-chested partner lifted his head. "Do you mind telling our new captain what he's missing?"**

**"Discretion," Bear informed Morirama. "Hawk and I don't need to know who you are outside of the mask, Boar. All that matters is you're our captain and we're to follow." His smile was friendlier as he bowed. "But don't worry. Now that we ****_do_**** know, we vow to protect you with our lives."**

**"What about you guys?" Morirama had to ask. "Who are you, really?"**

**Bear was about to open his mouth. Hawk placed a hand over his lips and grinned widely. "Let me make something perfectly clear to you. I'm not giving you my name until I'm on death's door. And if I happen to outlive you? Heh…you'll never find out."**

**Morirama smirked, holding out a hand to shake with her. "That's a dare if I ever heard one! Very well. Let's see if you can hide your identity for that long."**

…

At some point down the line, she'd been charmed. Hawk knew Morirama was married, so she kept her distance out of respect for his nice little wife and his daughter. Hawk squeezed her captain's fingers and fought back another wave of tar trying to leave her lungs. '_This is it. There's no medic, we're in enemy territory, and the mission was a death sentence._'

"Hey…" she whispered, using the last of her strength to lean toward his ear. "I know you're my captain, but let me give you an order this one time. Since you're too much of a sentimental idiot to let me die alone, I want you to dump my corpse in the Yugakure water supply."

The ANBU weren't supposed to leave bodies behind. Closer to home, the team would perform a series of seals to eliminate the body down to dust, but Morirama refused to learn them. It was why Bear's whole husk was planted under broken permafrost in the outskirts of Shimogakure.

The hot springs were so hot that Hawk's flesh would boil until only bone remained. All her secrets would disappear along with her soft tissues. "That way, even if you don't make it to the camp, we can still hurt these bastards by spreading the disease." Her grip tightened, just because she needed a reminder she wasn't quite dead yet. "You should consider doing the same, Boar. They'll do all kinds of awful things to your corpse if they find out whose son you were."

"Hawk—"

"Promise me."

"I…" More droplets fell on her face. This time, since one touched her lips, she knew for a fact it was a tear. "I promise, Hawk."

"…Saki." Her hands went limp from numbness, falling like weights to her side. Her whole body began falling apart, even to the point where she couldn't keep her head up. "It's _Saki."_

…

"You didn't want to go with pink or blue?" Kagami asked. "By this point, I've resigned myself to nothing but pink rooms. Both of my children are daughters."

"What's wrong with a girl?" Torifu gruffed. "I want a girl!" Considering how strong and powerful a warrior his mother was, he could only imagine how proud she'd be to have a granddaughter. "For all you know, your next kid might be a son. Have you picked out names?"

"Either Akari or Akagi, depending on the sex."

Visiting Torifu was a good change of pace from all the drama going on with the Uchiha Clan these days. As hard as Kazusa-_taichou_ tried to alleviate the older clan members' worries about Tobirama's student becoming Hokage, it wasn't working. The last few times Kagami saw his clan head, Kazusa's hands were shaky. And even though she wore dark glasses to cover her eyes most of the time, she constantly seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. That sort of stress wasn't good for anyone, especially not a pregnant woman.

So Kagami made the mistake of asking Kazusa's husband, Sarani, if he'd consider taking over the more stressful parts of the clan head position until his wife gave birth. Kazusa lost her first heir and miscarried several others. She was thirty-three now and under immense pressure to continue the line. Kagami meant well, but Kazusa misinterpreted his words and went on the defensive.

They weren't on speaking terms now. If Kagami passed Kazusa in the hall, she'd walk faster and avoid eye contact. And if he tried to go toward her office to apologize, Naka or Naori would show up out of nowhere and bar him from entering. If he so much as uttered Kazusa's name in their presence, they'd force him to leave.

"What about you, Torifu? Do you have a boy name and a girl name picked out?"

"We're thinking Mei if it's a girl and Taikyū if it's a boy. And again, I'm telling you right now, we're hoping for a girl."

"Paint the walls pink, then," Kagami teased. "I dare you."

"And if it's a boy? What then? I'm going with mint green because it's calming and won't look out of place when my kid's older."

Kagami wanted to make a remark that the color they chose for the walls wasn't mint green—it more closely looked like the same grassy green his kids sometimes puked up and Torifu would become all too familiar with that color in the near future—but he couldn't bring himself to do it. "Suit yourself."

They both married within two weeks of each other. Now, between missions, they tended to push for each other's company during home improvement tasks. When Kagami's kitchen sink stopped working and a rusted-over pipe was too fused together to dismantle the easy way, Torifu came over with a hand saw and spent the whole afternoon grinding past metal to free the pipe. Likewise, whenever it was that time of the week to burn trash and yard debris, Kagami came over to set the thing ablaze.

The fact they were neighbors helped. Shortly after they were assigned to the same genin team, they became best friends. With enough income in each of their pockets to buy their own homes, they'd chosen two modest houses across the street from each other. And now they'd each have a new baby to hold in a few more months. Considering how sentimental Hiruzen could be, he'd probably stick their kids on the same team.

'_Just watch,_' Kagami thought. '_They'll hate each other._'

"It's starting to get dark. How would you like to have dinner with my family tonight? I know Amai won't be getting back until her mission's over, so…"

Torifu smirked, giving his friend a hearty pat on the back. "That sounds way better than dining alone. Thanks, Kagami. You're the best friend a guy could ask for." He was about to say something else when he noticed a silhouette outside. "What on earth…?" He put the paintbrush down, headed toward the door, and saw Danzō on the other side. "Yes?"

But something was wrong. Danzō hadn't made a face like that in years: not since his mother died. His lips were pursed, his eyes averted toward the ground, and he fell to his knees. "What is it, Danzō?" But no words came out of his mouth. His entire aura continued to drown in despondence.

What worried Torifu most of all was the fact his teammate was kneeling before him. '_What the hell? He's been an arrogant little shit since Hiruzen gave him that ANBU appointment. Now he's acting all fucking humble? Did he—_'

Oh god.

"Is this about my wife? Why aren't you saying anything?" Torifu moved closer, getting in his teammate's face. "What happened out there?! Tell me!"

"There…" Danzō's voice sounded so faint and distant. "There was a plague. Amai tried to save the squad, but…"

"Go," Torifu hissed. "I don't want to even look at you right now! You could have talked her out of it, but you didn't! You didn't even…you didn't…"

"Torifu, I didn't know. I—"

"No." But it wasn't Torifu who spoke up. Kagami came forward, sharingan on. "You knew. These eyes of mine see past all lies." He moved between the grief-stricken Akimichi and the despondent Shimura. All Danzō could focus on were those scarlet eyes casting judgment upon him. "We'll read the official report when it comes out, Danzō; but you need to leave."

He did, hearing the sound of an entire tree falling from a powerful punch in the distance, paired with a slew of heartbroken profanities.

…

_April 1__st__, Yugakure._

The Raikage's party arrived in the Land of Hot Water by noon. The villagers for the Hidden Hot Springs kept their distance, recognizing one of the men as the Raikage of the dangerous major village just south of them in the Land of Lightning. The Hidden Cloud had tried to annex them two years ago, only for other major nations to threaten war if they went forward with it.

The joke was on them all. War was happening regardless. The Raikage was ready and had nothing to fear. He believed his village was the strongest and deadliest in the world. So why was it that by five in the afternoon, when the Tsuchikage's entourage arrived, the Tsuchikage wasn't among them? Instead, some moon-faced, bulbous-nosed, pockmarked brat wanted to talk.

What an affront to his dignity. He wanted to punch this cocky brat already.

"Nidaime Raikage, how good to see you." Ōnoki bowed to give the proper respects to the head ninja for the Hidden Cloud. "I'll be representing Iwagakure during this discussion."

"Fuck that. Where's Mū?" the Raikage snapped. "We never received official notice that the Second Tsuchikage died. I'm not wasting my time with some goddamn usurper."

"You misunderstand. Mū-_sama _is alive, but badly injured from his fight against the Mizukage. He's in no condition to negotiate right now, but I'm his student, not to mention his next in line. Should the unthinkable happen and he fails to recover, I'm slated to become Sandaime."

"Well, here's hoping he gets well soon. You're just as ugly as your grandpa."

'_If I didn't need this alliance, you boorish ass…_' Ōnoki clenched his fist, but outwardly kept his calm. "Are jokes really appropriate right now, _A-dono_? This war has dragged on for years and the body count is terrible on every side. We've lost thousands. So have you. Aren't we here to discuss taking down a common enemy: _Konoha?_" What right did that village have to force its will on the others? "I'm not sure what triggered the dissent between your two villages, but—"

"It's our _jinchūriki_. The fucking Nidaime Hokage claimed there was a disconnect of power between the major villages because we have an uneven number of jinchūriki among us. Konohagakure started by having the nine-tails. We other four each started with two apiece: one and seven to Sunagakure, four and five to you, two and eight to us, and three and six to Kirigakure. Takigakure stole the seven-tails not too long ago from Suna, and shit's just gone downhill from there."

A technically outranked him because Ōnoki was only serving as an interim leader for his people. There was no reason to cut him off. Instead, Ōnoki sat beside A and continued to listen as the resort owner began preparing their dinner. That was how it would begin: a soak in Yugakure's rejuvenating waters, a mealtime discussion, a couple of drinks, and then a chance to deliberate in private rooms overnight to come to a consensus on the next course of action.

"See, the Kazekage and Hokage made a backdoor deal to demand we turn over the two-tails to Suna. The argument was total bullshit, too." He remembered it clear as day. "In the Hokage's own words, he didn't see what the big deal was. We'd still have the eight-tails and therefore the second-strongest tailed beast in our hands, while Suna's tail count would only go up to three: one third of the Hidden Mist's power. I guess he forgot something in all this."

Ōnoki raised an eyebrow.

"The two-tails jinchūriki is my wife. There's no way I'd abandon her in the world's largest sandbox, even if she _is_ a bitch with a crazy-ass demon cat in her. Sure, Yasei has a temper, but damn it. I love her! That and _fuck_ the idea of handing over any of my power to a village I'm not even allies with."

"Yasei sounds a little like my wife," Ōnoki confessed. "But I can sympathize with you. We're still bitter over the early negotiations from when my grandfather was Tsuchikage. The Shodaime Hokage sent Uchiha Madara to talk with us. It was clear he was under the belief that the other nations would be vassal states."

"Fuck that!"

"Those are my thoughts exactly, sir." They were too proud a people: strong and unwavering, just like the stone that fortified their nation. And if anyone ever tried to capture a cloud, that was equally futile. "Who do they think they are? The Five Kages are to hold _equal_ power: each nation at the same level of threat as others."

A disrobed and slid into the water. "Hashirama sounded so sincere in that first treaty. Equal mission rates between villages, an equal power balance, the ability to vote among ourselves in the Gokage Summits…it all fell to pieces when his asshole brother took over. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think Tobirama wanted to tear down the whole system, just to watch it burn."

Just like he suspected Tobirama was behind the attack from the Gold and Silver Brothers. They'd worked toward an alliance and made great progress, only for those two men to come out of nowhere. Tobirama barely got away, but he'd left A for dead. It seemed almost too organized to be a random attack.

Ōnoki was about to join in the water, but something foul caught his nose's attention. As big and bumpy as it was, he had one hell of a sniffer. "Are you sure this water is sanitary?"

"It's just sulfur, you paranoid little prick. Most hot springs smell a bit eggy."

"No, it's…" What Ōnoki smelled was more like rancid pork. More than that, he caught sight of something puffy in the water: pale pink and white like a dead fish. The texture was wrong, though. It felt more like overcooked meat. Before he could hold a piece closer to his nose to investigate further, a half-disintegrated corpse fell from the waterfall and splashed only two meters from the Raikage. The body's face was long gone. Only a bloodless mess of tendons and teeth remained.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" A yelled in shock. "THAT'S A—"

"…Konoha kunoichi." Ōnoki spotted the tattoo on the dead woman's arm. There the ink remained: the leaf insignia of Konoha's ANBU program. The dark spots surrounding it, though, were something else. "…and plague…" Once the shock wore off, panic set in. He was in protective mode not only for himself, but for the Raikage as well. "SECURE THE AREA! DON'T LET ANYONE LEAVE!"

Where did this bitch come from? How did Konoha find out about the rendezvous? This was supposed to be top secret! Ōnoki only found out because Mū told him and needed him to take over negotiations.

A ran out of the water, reaching for a towel. A shuriken hit him in the back, causing him to roar out more foul language in pain and anger. Ōnoki saw another figure at the waterfall. A shadowy figure jumped down to greet them: fully armed, face hidden behind a wild pig mask, with a sword in hand. "WAS THAT YOUR PARTNER? HUH!?"

But the grief and fever had worn on Senju Morirama's mind. He took a full day to grieve for his fallen comrades before making his move, knowing he had the time. When he awoke the following day, the fever raised his temperature a few additional degrees. In his hazy eyes, he saw neither Ryōtenbin no Ōnoki nor Second Raikage A.

All he saw were Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzō: congratulating each other on orchestrating his demise.

These bastards had taken everything from him. He'd never run into his wife's arms and have a chance to tell her how much she meant to him, nor would he be able to walk his daughter to school again. He couldn't even return home so his mother wouldn't have to experience the tragedy of outliving not only her husband, but all of her beloved babies.

Hawk and Bear were dead, all because of them. They had done their job and tried to protect him with their lives, living up to the vow they made during Tobirama's reign, but he'd never truly wanted to learn Hawk's name. Knowing that she was called _Saki_ meant nothing to him, except that he'd outlived every close friend he'd made in this hellish existence.

"HYAAAAAAH!" he yelled, swinging the sword like a madman. Even if he could only take one of them down, at least he'd feel better.

"WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!" Ōnoki yelled, reaching for his weapon kit. He found a second kit and tossed it to A. "DEAR GODS. HE'S COVERED IN PLAGUE!"

"I DON'T CARE _WHO_ HE IS!" A snapped. There wasn't much point in taking the time to get fully dressed. Just enough armor to cover himself from major hits would be enough. "ALL I CARE ABOUT IS MAKING SURE HE DOESN'T LEAVE HERE ALIVE!"

"Of course," the masked man gurgled. Blood dribbled from the mask's mouth hole, as well as the two eyeholes. "You've wished me dead this whole time. But Hawk's plan was pretty brilliant." He staggered like a drunkard, taking clumsy and careless swings with the sword. "You bathed in her essence. Even if I can't kill you…_she_ will."

A couple of weeks later, the Second Raikage would develop terrible blisters and a coughing fit so bad that he'd suffer respiratory problems for the remainder of his tenure. He'd be one of the fortunate few to survive the plague, but he'd fear for death the whole time.

Morirama swung again, but his sword was parried by A's. "You think you're the only swordsman between the two of us? Hn?" A glared. "Hey, ugly?"

"How dare you! What?"

"ANBU groups go in packs of four. That means half of 'em are still out there, waiting. Go get 'im. I'll take care of this one!" A was mildly impressed by how much strength and rage such a sick man still carried in his unsteady hands. "Give it up, man. You know you're gonna die."

"Not…not until I kill you…you _fucking_ sham…"

But he didn't succeed. The numbness came into Morirama's arms first, causing him to drop the sword. A strong punch to the gut knocked him into the rotten water, feeling Hawk's stewing corpse poking helplessly at his left like a dead fish in an aquarium. The mask came off, taking with it all the residue of burst boils and living decay.

Still, A recognized him. "You're…you're Senju Hashirama's son…"

Weakly, Morirama rolled over, trying to grab his sword; but he couldn't. Every last part of his body felt weighed down. It was futile to fight, but he refused to go down like this.

"Don't worry, _Senju-san_." There was nothing warm or kind in A's tone. All Morirama could hear was Danzō's smarmy voice as the Raikage's sword began to glow blue and crackle with an electrical current. "I'm gonna put you outta your misery."

Even with everything losing sensation, Morirama felt the burn of lighting and water. He thrashed, screaming himself hoarse, until nothing else moved. And once A was completely certain his attacker was dead, he reached for as many towels as he could find, bundled him up, and gave order to one of his subordinates to take him back to Kumo.

Ōnoki, who was unwittingly chasing after dead men who no longer existed, never needed to know.


	11. A True Hero

**"Senpai! Morirama-****_senpai_****!" Hiruzen chased after the older boy, eager to catch up to him. In his eyes, Morirama was the luckiest boy in the entire village. Not only was he the First Hokage's son, but a gaggle of girls followed him everywhere he went. "Wait up!"**

**"Maybe you should wait up," one of Morirama's teammates, a gorgeous Hyūga girl in a black kimono, suggested. "If you don't, that kid's going to chase you all over the village."**

**Morirama stopped in place, sucking in a small groan of annoyance. Hiruzen halted in his tracks and gave his biggest, toothiest grin in an attempt to look cute. Despite how many times Hiruzen's mother pinched his cheek and called him adorable, neither Senju Morirama nor Hyūga Kozue seemed to agree with that. Both blinked at him slowly, wondering what all the hubbub was about.**

**"Teach me jutsu?" Hiruzen implored, placing both hands behind his back. "Sensei's stuck in the office all day, so…"**

**Kozue rolled her moon-like eyes and went on ahead. "I don't have time for this nonsense. Kaizen?" Her Uchiha teammate turned to look at her. She held out her arm so they could hook arms together and walk along without Morirama. "I saw some fine silks imported from the Land of Moors the other day. I was thinking I could embroider something for your sister..."**

**"You don't have to do that," Kaizen reminded her. "Naho's spoiled enough as it is."**

**The rest of the conversation, Hiruzen didn't catch. He was too excited that Morirama hadn't scooted away with Kaizen and Kozue. His eyes twinkled with boyish glee because he had the Senju boy's full attention. "Maybe—"**

**"Did you ever stop to think that maybe the village is more important than you are?" Morirama inquired, arms folded. "That's why my father doesn't have time to play with you today, Hiruzen. He's preparing for the first Gokage Summit. He's really nervous about it."**

**The nine-year-old wasn't sure what a Gokage Summit was, nor did he care. If a teacher was a teacher, then he had to find time for his students instead of outsourcing their education through other tutors. Hiruzen had already lost count of how many times he'd learned a jutsu through Hashirama's son rather than Hashirama himself. **

**"Can you still train me today?" He heard a groan, but Morirama nodded in resignation. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank youuu!"**

…

Not once had Hiruzen ever thought of his sensei's son as a bad person. Sometimes they didn't see eye to eye, but Morirama always carried himself with grace and dignity. He was compassionate, kindhearted, and empathetic. But above all else, he was something Hiruzen feared he could never be: _noble_.

How many times had Hashirama been pulled away by affairs of state, only for his son to offer to teach Hiruzen and the others additional jutsu? How many times had the same thing happened with Tobirama? By that point, he approached Morirama less and less…not that he would have had time for Hiruzen, anyway. He married. Later, he even had a child.

'_They seemed like such a happy family, too._'

Every time Hiruzen saw Morirama out and about, he always had Yamanaka Hasu at his side. They held hands in public. He'd frequently buy floral crowns at the flower shop and surprise his wife with one. Sometimes, if he'd had a little too much to drink, he'd act like it was a formal coronation then carry Hasu off bridal style. Each time, Hasu ate up the attention and nuzzled her face to her husband's, whispering sweet _I love yous_.

Not everyone found love like that. And once a baby entered the equation, Morirama and Hasu proceeded to take Tsunade with them everywhere. That little girl got passed through far more hands than any of Hashirama's kids ever were.

'_That child's going to grow up without a father, but she's old enough to remember him. And the baby…Hasu's baby…'_

"Hiruzen?" He glanced up, half worried Homura or Koharu were going to storm in and bitch at him for committing some other social faux pas. Or worse, it could have been Danzō with more bad news about how dark the situation in Yugakure truly was. Wasn't it bad enough that Morirama's corpse was taken back to Kumogakure? If it turned out he had a dormant _Mokuton _gene, then—

But his guest wasn't any of those people. "Your mother said you never came home last night. So unless you left the tower long enough to grab breakfast…" Biwako held up a small tray with a bowl of rice congee and a tiny plate of cooked duck slices. "Have at it, Hokage."

"You're the best, Biwako," Hiruzen reminded her, though he could tell from the little way Biwako wiggled her nose, she already knew that. They'd known each other since they were kids. Honestly, _all_ the Sarutobi children knew each other, all the way down to the dark and dirty secrets. He dipped a sliver of duck meat into the sauce before adding it to the congee. "But I'm not the only one having a rotten day."

"Huh?"

"Torifu just found out that his wife died. Danzō's blaming himself because he organized the mission." There was going to be a baby Akimichi. And knowing how quickly and heavily Torifu had fallen for his wife, Hiruzen was half afraid his friend would never put himself through such heartache and try to love again. "Right now, neither Kagami nor Torifu want to go anywhere near him. Biwako, I…I've never seen that man _cry_ before."

Her brown eyes went toward her tiny feet. "Neither have I," she murmured. "You'd think I would, considering how long we were together; but Danzō never opened up to me."

To Biwako, Danzō was like an iceberg. She saw a tall glacial mountain and reveled in its majesty; but she knew full well the other ninety percent would forever remain below the surface: too cold and too dangerous to touch. Danzō hid things. And every time she thought she'd made progress with him; he'd deflect, change the conversation, or try to buy her silence with pretty gifts.

He was charming and superficially thoughtful. He remembered anniversaries and always gave her nice things. If Biwako only needed an open ear, he'd give one…but Danzō tended to give advice. Once, just once, it would have been nice if he'd opened up to her over something other than his jealousy toward his best friend.

She ended it, though, mostly out of fear. Just how much of the submerged ice was devoted to Hiruzen? Was it even really envy that made Danzō burn? Some days, Biwako wondered if it was more than that: like he was in love with this man and too repressed to admit it. What a sad, lonely existence that would be.

"You, though? I think you're the only person he's ever been completely honest with." Biwako reached over, plucking a couple of loose hairs off the shoulder of Hiruzen's coat. "He may complain about you a good deal, but you're his favorite person."

"He's mine, too," Hiruzen admitted, glancing over the report. "I'd be a pretty lousy best friend if he wasn't."

"What are you reading?"

"If I tell you it's nothing you want to see, will you take me at my word?" Hiruzen gave her a sad smile, but he couldn't hide it from her. Biwako had been pushed aside and kept out of the loop for too long. "Morirama died on that mission, too. The Raikage has his body. On top of that, Iwagakure's itching for another fight. I'm ready to propose an armistice, but—"

Biwako ruffled his hair and gave his cheek a kiss. "Eat up and bring the dishes back over later tonight, alright? Thanks for telling me." The door closed and that vision of kindness and warmth was gone. The office felt so cold again.

Hiruzen's eyes returned to the photographs and he cringed. '_I recognize the woman. She was the Hawk ANBU on his patrol._' But Morirama was far more uncomfortable to behold, even if his corpse was in better condition, all on account of who he was.

'_Do you feel it too, Danzō? I feel like I've just murdered a friend…but we couldn't let him live, could we? Not if we wanted to follow sensei's wishes. He had to die.'_

But his brain kept imagining that same man carrying his wife down the streets of the village or holding his daughter's hand as he walked her to Academy. He remembered Morirama's laugh, that annoyed huff he'd make whenever Hiruzen pestered him for training in his genin days…

'_He had to die,'_ his mind repeated_. 'He had to die. He __**had**__ to die…_'

...

He had to die, and the family had to know.

They didn't need to see the pictures because nobody but Hiruzen and Danzō deserved to remember Morirama as an electrocuted plague victim who died knowing his own village betrayed him. Those photos would be carefully stashed and locked away within a drawer of the Hokage desk: never to be viewed by Hashirama's widow, daughter-in-law, or grandchildren.

'_If they can remember the flower crowns, the birthday parties, and all the years he stood by to defend his mother's honor, that's preferable._'

Morirama shook his hand after the inauguration was over. They even posed for a photo together. Hiruzen smiled proudly in his Sandaime robes and posed for the camera. He'd actually needed to stand on his tip-toes and lean on Morirama a bit just so the photographer could get the both of them.

Danzō had offered to break the news for him, but Hiruzen refused. Danzō's only crime was that he followed orders. Plus, he had enough grief to deal with over destroying his teammate's life. Hiruzen needed to handle Morirama's family himself.

'_Just how long has it been since I visited sensei's home?'_ Hashirama's home was wrapped around a large, beautiful old tree and almost looked like something straight out of a fairy tale. He provided bountifully for his family. Hiruzen remembered the younger kids, the youngest of which had been two years younger than himself. They were dead now, too.

A lovely amber glow came from the windows: a lovely contrast to the dark wood of the house. Hasu was in the garden, trying to plant some early spring seedlings for tomatoes, cucumbers, and hot peppers. "Hasu?"

The Yamanaka woman lifted her head. Hiruzen noted the small traces of dirt staining her rose pink dress. "Sandaime." She bowed politely. "We weren't expecting anyone today."

The sadness turned into a hard salty ball in his throat, making it hard to talk. "Can we go inside?" Once Hasu stood, removing her gardening gloves, Hiruzen had to ask one other question. "Is Lady Mito awake yet?"

"Yes, she is. The maids are fixing her a bowl of—"

"And Tsunade?"

"I'm sorry…? What is this about?" Hasu didn't understand. These people were collateral damage in all of this: innocent victims.

…

Like a regal queen of a retired regime, Mito sat in her finest robes. The genesis seal upon her brow left her looking closer to a lively, vivacious thirty than a grandmother. The maids helped with her makeup, giving her all the golds, ambers, rusts, and scarlets of fire. Even the diadem Hashirama gave her as a wedding present was on her head, mostly because she wore it everywhere.

"I wasn't expecting anyone today," Mito informed Hiruzen, "especially not our new Hokage." There was some warmth in her voice. "My student thinks very highly of you, Hiruzen. Biwako tells me you've been close friends for years and she's very happy for you."

"You almost sound like you have an ulterior motive, Mito-_sama_," Hiruzen teased. "Are you trying to set me up with Biwako?"

"Those are your words, not mine," the Uzumaki woman quipped back. "I haven't had a chance to tell you in person how proud my husband would have been to see you take this position."

Oh god.

"I hope it's enough that I can congratulate you on Hashirama's behalf. He thought of you and your teammates as his other children."

His heart.

"But you…" Mito smiled with such sincerity that Hiruzen's stomach did a somersault. "You were always his favorite."

It hurt.

"Sometimes I think he saw more of his old self in you than he did in any of our children. _I_ always thought of you as an extra son, Saru. You were a fine boy and grew into a fine man."

It twisted and turned until he felt like he was going to puke from sheer nerves.

"If my son has made you worry with his moodiness, please don't mind him. Morirama will get over his jealousy. Even if he doesn't, he isn't the sort to shake up things. He'll still follow his Hokage, whoever he is. So…"

Here it came: the moment he was dreading.

"How is he? I presume you came here to talk about him?"

"He's…" Not only were Mito's dark eyes on him, but so were Hasu's beautiful baby blues. She sat there, that bump in her abdomen proving that her future son would also bear witness to this conversation. '_This beautiful family, the torch from which our will of fire originated…_'

It was all Hiruzen could do to steady his hands and remain calm. And yet when he spoke, everything fell apart. "Forgive me, Mito-_sama_. Your son won't be coming home." For a brief moment, he saw a desperate hope in the eyes of those two women: wanting to believe that Morirama's mission would simply be extended. "He's never coming home. Hasu…maybe you should sit this one out, for the baby's sake."

"No!" she insisted. "This is my husband we're talking about! I need to know what happened, even if—"

"Hasu," Mito's voice was firm. "This isn't only about you. If my son is…" It pained her to say it so much. "…_dead_, then you have to keep in mind you're carrying the last child he'll ever have." Hasu gave her an indignant look, but the former first lady of the Hidden Leaf was adamant about this. "If I think you can handle the details, I'll brief you later."

Hasu did as she was told, but Hiruzen could hear her light cries turn into loud, inconsolable sobs the moment she went outside. She screamed, calling out her beloved's name, and completely lost herself in her misery. Hiruzen saw her silhouette in the garden, knees to the earth. All she did was weep openly in lamentation until she finally got to her feet again and ventured off. Where to, he had no idea.

Mito's hands didn't shake, despite the fact her breathing had changed. "Did he suffer?" she asked. "Or was it quick?"

"He died a hero," Hiruzen told her, pulling his chair closer so he could take one of Mito's hands into his own. It was so surreal, seeing her like this. Mito's appearance hadn't changed since the first day Hiruzen met her. She'd worn more wrinkles and furrows on her face at her husband's funeral, but chose to rejuvenate herself after Tobirama's death.

She was so tragically beautiful. He just wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be alright, but he didn't dare. He caused this disaster. '_But I should tell it to her, just as I rehearsed…_' By this point, he heard the light pitter-patter of children's feet coming down the stairs. '_Go back upstairs, little girl. I'll talk to you later._'

"When my teammates and I returned with the Nidaime's body, we also brought a survivor from Kumogakure's Kinkaku Squad with us. She was sent to Torture & Interrogation for questioning. Osamu-_sama_ was able to extract enough information out of her for us to realize the Hidden Stone and Hidden Cloud planned to meet in a neutral location to propose a secret alliance.

"However, the intelligence was hazy at best. All we knew was that the destination was a shinobi village to the north of the Land of Lightning. That could mean Shimogakure in the Land of Frost or Yugakure in the Land of Hot Water. Danzō pushed for more details, trying to figure out which of the two villages would be the rendezvous point, but the girl died in questioning. Even after a posthumous brain read, there was no further information to be had.

"He came to me in a panic." The sheer thought of Danzō in a panic was almost laughable, but maybe Mito would buy it. "I'd only just appointed him the head of ANBU, Mito-_sama_. He wasn't sure how to proceed, so he asked your son for advice. Morirama volunteered to lead the expedition and made an executive decision to visit Shimogakure first. That…that proved to be a fatal mistake, seeing as that village was recovering from a plague outbreak."

By this point, he could no longer look her in the eye, nor did he glance upward toward the stairs. He could sense Tsunade's chakra and that was bad enough. "He got sick out there, long after his medic died. He sent us a message, telling us he still planned to scout out Yugakure, just in case the Raikage and Tsuchikage appeared. I know he made it that far, but…"

The tears he cried weren't false. This was Hiruzen's way of saying _goodbye_ and _I'm sorry_. "He died like a hero, but we can't account for his body. We'll bury his memory with full honors, right next to his father. Danzō offered to pay for all funeral expenses because he should have known better, and—"

Mito wrapped her arms around Hiruzen tightly. Her calm, graceful façade broke at long last. "He doesn't have to do that, dear," she cried. "All he has to do is come to the memorial service."

"Hokage-_sama_?" Hiruzen's blood turned to ice. There, tugging at his coat, was Morirama's little girl. Tsunade looked at him with her father's cinnamon brown eyes. "You can't leave my _'tou-san_ out there." Her face was peony pink, eyes shiny with tears. "He has to come home."

"Tsunade…"

"Promise me," she demanded. "You _gotta_ bring my _'tou-san_ home! If you don't, then he'll—"

"Tsunade-_hime,_" one of the maids remarked, taking the child forcefully by the hand. "I'm so sorry, Sandaime. I'll take her upstairs right now." She took the child into her arms and struggled to go upstairs. The fact Tsunade kept kicking and screaming didn't help in the slightest.

Mito remained pale, dabbing at her eyes. She'd have a good long cry in private, but never in front of a guest. "Please forgive her. She just lost the only male role model in her life."

"That brings me to the last thing I wanted to talk about…" This was Hiruzen's idea, and the sole reason why he did not want to have this conversation with Danzō around. Danzō would tell him it was a terrible idea and that his priorities were badly out of order. "Tsunade's doing well in Academy, isn't she?"

Mito slowly nodded her head. "There's only one child with higher scores: some poor child who recently lost both his parents in the war effort."

He heard about that boy: a somber, deathly pale prodigy the likes of which the village had never witnessed before. "It's still war time. The graduation age is eight for high performers. I was thinking…if you're not opposed to the idea…"

The Uzumaki woman looked up at him. "It's what my husband would have wanted. My son, too. To think that you would want to follow in Hashirama's footsteps, juggling the care of this village and the care of a genin team together…are you sure you're up for it?"

Something loud thumped outside. Seconds later, the maid ran down the stairs in panic. "AND STAY OUT!" Tsunade yelled, slamming the door.

"I owe it to my senpai, don't I?"

...

"Lord Osamu!" Hasu pounded at the door. As the head of Torture & Interrogation, her clan head only had to report for work between 9:00 AM and 5:00 PM on weekdays. The rest of the time, cousin Zassō had everything under control. Today was a Saturday, meaning the likelihood of Osamu being at home, sitting comfortably in front of the radio, was rather high. "LORD OSAMU!"

The door opened and there stood Hanako: Osamu's cousin and caretaker. "What is it, Hasu?" she hissed, leaning so far forward that her bountiful chest poked Hasu. "You're screaming like somebody's trying to kill you." She glanced down, squinting beneath her rhinestone-covered glasses, and winced. "Is it your baby?"

"No," Hasu sobbed, dabbing her face with a lavender silk kerchief. "It's my _husband_, Hanako. Please…please, I need to talk to Lord Osamu." And she knew he was in there. She could hear him from the kitchen, talking with Hanako's son. Every once in a while, she'd hear an _ooooh_ or _aaaah_ from Nori.

'_Your son still has his father come home at the end of the day to spend time with him. Mine's never going to __**know**__ his father! Hanako, please_. _PLEASE!_'

Finally, Hanako nodded her head and opened the door further. "Come in, but please take a seat and calm down. Your pregnancy isn't fully stable yet." So much could go wrong. "I'll put on a tea to help with your nerves, alright?"

"I don't need tea, cousin!" Hasu waved off her hand dismissively. "I need retribution! That bastard had my husband murdered!"

"Psssst. Uncle Osamu_?_" Nori tugged on the clan head's long purple silk sleeve and whispered in his ear. "What's a bastard?"

"Nothing your ears needed to hear, that's what," the Yamanaka head snapped before wheeling himself into the parlor. "What's this about your husband being murdered, Hasu?"

Osamu had no children of his own, so he had to consider each younger Yamanaka as a little brother, little sister, niece, or nephew. After the awful hazy opium daze of his twenties and early thirties came a sharp, ugly clarity. These people feared him rather than loved him, but it was his duty to care for all of their hardships.

"It's the Hokage," Hasu began, hands continuing to shake. She was half afraid that she'd begin to bleed between the legs and hurt the baby. Nothing in the world scared her more. "A few people in the village thought my husband was a more suitable Hokage candidate. You remember that, right? I don't know how Hiruzen pulled it off, but Morirama's dead. His whole _squad_ is dead!"

That was a grim piece of news indeed. "I'm very sorry to hear that, Hasu. When is the funeral?"

"That's just it. There _is_ no funeral! All we'll be able to provide my husband is a memorial service because his body went missing. Someone has him…someone _took_ him…and they'll never let him go!" Hasu didn't care that her makeup ran or that Hanako kept giving her disapproving looks for dragging such a problem before her cousin.

"Tell us when the service is," Hanako interrupted. "We'll make sure the entire Yamanaka Clan attends. Morirama was an honorary Yamanaka by marrying you…even though you _did_ choose to adopt the Senju culture and raise your children as—"

"Lady Mito is my mother-in-law! What ELSE was I supposed to do!?" Hasu just kept shaking her head, feeling the bile and rage rise. "I don't just want you to attend, Hanako. I want you or Lord Osamu to do something about Sarutobi Hiruzen."

"It could have been his council, you know," Osamu pointed out. "Isn't Danzō head of ANBU now? And wasn't your husband in—"

"Hiruzen, Danzō, Homura, Koharu…what does it even _matter_!? They're all guilty! I can't forgive any of them! Sir…twelve years ago, I followed your orders. I delivered dreams so terrible that Hiruzen's father poisoned himself. If he found out that _I_ was the one who did that…"

"He won't," Hanako reminded her. "The whole clan agreed to a gag order and blamed it all on Lady Yanagi. You know that. It was all _her_ fault." And now Yanagi was in another part of the house, disassembling the petals of an imported sunflower one by one, humming the same stupid lullaby she'd sung when they had her lobotomized. "You can't say anything else. Ever."

But it made too much sense. Surely he knew. He _had_ to know. "Why else would he target a man who had been nothing but a friend to him? For heaven's sake, he used to call Morirama _senpai_. I'll never be satisfied until he's off the seat!"

Osamu placed a cigarette to his lips. It was the one vice he never could fully free himself from. "You'd have me drive him mad?"

"Sir, I'd have you drive them _all_ mad."

"Come back to your clan, dear. Take your surname back and give it to your children. Now that Morirama is dead, there's no point in kissing up to Mito anymore. Then…" He lit up, blowing smoke into the room. Hasu coughed, fanning it away from herself for fear of her future child's health. "And _only_ then, will we talk."

Her jaw went ajar in disbelief. "Are you serious!? I can't—"

"Exactly. I can't, either. The last time I pulled a stunt like this, it cost me my sister…not to mention the village's trust in our clan. What happened to your husband is a tragedy, Hasu; but this isn't our fight. And if you try to do this yourself, then…"

"Then know that you don't have our support," Hanako warned. "It's progress for us to have a Sarutobi in the Hokage seat. That's just as good as having one of our own. If you ruin that just because you're choosing to think your husband's death was a conspiracy and not an accident, that's your problem. Not ours."

…

A memorial service was different from a funeral. People came to discuss memories of the deceased, burned incense at the picture, and left offerings behind so the ghost would be able to return home. Many mourners turned out for the service, and Hiruzen couldn't help but feel more came for Morirama's funeral than they had for Tobirama's.

"It's always more tragic when a young man dies," Danzō murmured. "Either that or Morirama was more popular. Lord Second wasn't exactly a people person and he rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. This, though…?"

Hiruzen stood by his side, occasionally pressing his shoulder against Danzō's for a tiny bit of comfort: just so he knew he still had somebody at his side, no matter what. "We have a problem," he whispered back. "The family's demanding we do all we can to retrieve the body."

"As you should." He hadn't expected Danzō to say that. He would have assumed that out of spite, or to teach Morirama's spirit a lesson for trying to pit two best friends against each other, or out of fear of the plague, that Danzō would have voted to keep the body where it was and not waste any further effort. "After all, he _was_ Lord First's last surviving child."

The entire coffin was covered in freesias: a flower of friendship. Everyone there knew it was empty: only filled with flowers and their heartbroken wishes that the man of the hour could be there with them. The entire world seemed to be in rainy April bloom. The trees flowered, petals falling and scattering in the wind. A sweet, soothing perfume filled the air.

All that remained of the Senju Clan turned out for the service. Toka and all her maidservants brought incense to burn, along with dried jasmine petals. They made their chants, breathing in the fragrance and kowtowing in unison in the direction in which Morirama died: northeast. _Far_ northeast.

The official story told to all was that Senju Morirama died a hero: trying to help his inexperienced superior out by taking a difficult, if not impossible, task upon himself for the sake of the village. Tragically, he contracted an illness and died, along with his entire party, before the mission was over.

"This also means that the outside world is going to do all kinds of tests on the corpse," Danzō whispered. "It's their last chance to find out if there's truly a _Mokuton_ gene in his bloodline. That is, unless, they get their hands on the girl."

"That's not going to happen," Hiruzen reassured him. "I'm keeping Tsunade under my watchful eye. Her grandmother already gave her blessing for it, but I'm taking her as my pupil. Orochimaru, too." Danzō didn't seem impressed with this idea. "It's the least I can do to have something good come out of this whole mess."

"You're a masochist, Sarutobi." Danzō took note of how many Yamanakas in particular came to pay their respects. The Uchihas, too. The only ones he saw at attention for this were Kagami, the clan head and her husband, and the surviving siblings of Morirama's dead Uchiha teammate. "I can't think of anyone else who mentally flagellates himself as severely as you do."

'_Oh, I can think of someone,_' Hiruzen thought. '_I'm brushing shoulders with the king of rumination._'

…

That man was going to be her sensei the moment she graduated. Apparently, her grandpa had trained him when he was a little boy and the Third Hokage wanted to give Tsunade such an opportunity, too. That was nice, really it was, but she wished her father was there to hear the news.

He wasn't in that coffin. Only flowers were. Everyone just kept pretending that he was in there and not in some bad man's hands. And if they were cutting him open to study him, then they truly were the worst of the worst. Stupid wars. They were invoked by stupid people and left kids like her without parents.

After hearing the news, her mother was so overcome with grief that all she did was cry when she saw her daughter. Tsunade had spent the past three days in the company of no one but nannies, maidservants, and her grandmother.

'_Obaa-chan…will you really be okay? I know you keep nodding your head and reassuring me that you've survived tougher things before, but you lost your last baby. You're a mama with no babies. They're all gone, and ojii-chan's gone, and okaa-san doesn't even want to look at you._'

And what worried her most of all was what her grandmother whispered in private to the maidservants when she thought Tsunade was asleep instead of sneaking around the estate. That was when Tsunade learned what a _hungry ghost_ was and it terrified her. Hungry ghosts were the spirits of the dead who couldn't receive proper burial rites or died horrible deaths. Judging from the way the Hokage talked and how her family reacted, both of those things were true for her father.

Would food really be enough to put his spirit at rest? Food and prayers and well wishes hadn't made her feel any better when people came to the house to talk about what a great man her father was. She just wanted him back, but not as a hungry ghost! They were supposed to have long necks and could even attack people in anger because—

"Here." She nearly jumped a foot in surprise, but a little boy held out a bouquet of freesias. "I was told these were your family's favorite."

She recognized him as a boy from her Academy class. Milk-white skin, long black hair, vibrant golden eyes with purple markings near his eyelids and tear glands. _Orochimaru_: the number-one student. "What are you doing here?" Tsunade snapped, swiping the flowers.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm paying my respects."

"You didn't even _know_ my father," Tsunade snapped. "All these people are showing up and saying how great he was, but you know what? I don't recognize most of them. They never visited! They never talked to us! They're just showing up 'cause they have to!" Just like her great-uncle who stunk up the entire service from his coffin. "Did your parents make you come here?"

The boy's golden eyes turned downward and he slowly shook his head. With his bouquet-wielding hand, he pointed toward another grave. "They couldn't, even if they wanted to. You must have loved your father a lot."

"He was my world! He was my best friend and my hero and…and…" The words didn't even make sense anymore when they came out of her mouth. So why was he looking at her like that: with pity? Hadn't he lost both parents? Surely she had to look like some sort of brat because she still had her mother to fall back on. He had nobody, right?

But all he did was offer the flowers again and step closer to take a peek at the coffin.


	12. Snuffed-Out Sunshine

"This rain is relentless." Koharu's feet felt cold and damp inside her sandals, not to mention sore. "It feels like the whole world is weeping."

"Perhaps it is." Homura leaned to the left a bit more, making sure that Koharu stayed safe from the rain beneath his umbrella. He already felt the black silk of his funeral kimono soak up the cold April rain.

Every street, it seemed, carried the smell of freesia. The flowers were placed at intersections leading toward the final resting place of Morirama's memory, as was the Senju Clan's flag. Should any Konoha shinobi wish to pay their respects at the empty coffin and tell the Prince of Konoha how much he meant to them, all they needed to do was follow the freesias. One end led to Lady Mito's estate. The other led to the cemetery.

At the junction leading toward the small row of houses the Yamanaka Clan inhabited, some of the flowers escaped the bouquet and sat in the rain puddles. Some floated. Some were too badly torn up to do much more than create a fragrant broth out of shorn petals. "After all…" Homura squatted down to pick one of the discarded flowers from a clean puddle. He placed the stem within Koharu's tied-up hair and watched as the orange flower brought some color to her funeral blacks. "It isn't every day that a dynasty dies."

'_But it hasn't_,' Koharu thought, giving him a look. '_So long as Hasu doesn't miscarry, and so long as Tsunade grows up strong, that line could continue._'

But they both heard the nervous whispers as the memorial service started to die down. Hidden in the freesia-and-petrichor-scented air were dangerous rumors bounced between the village's most vicious gossips. "Hiruzen plans to train the girl, Homura. It might continue through her. Or maybe Hasu's second baby."

"It's probably going to be another fifty or some-odd years before the nation feels comfortable having a woman in the Hokage seat," Homura murmured. "I wouldn't waste my faith on a girl. If the second child is a boy, then maybe…"

Koharu loved Homura dearly, but he had it in him to grate on her nerves as only an elite class sexist could. A part of her wished to remind him that their sensei put his female first cousin in a stewardship position while he fought in the war effort. Not only that, but many people still remarked that Senju Toka would have been a better choice than Hiruzen. She also wished to remind him how much power exuded from that foreigner who came to visit a few days before. Wasn't Seidou on the verge of taking over a village by force?

Womankind's day would come much sooner than half a century from that gloomy rainy day. And if Utatane Koharu could pave the way as the first tenured female official in Konoha, then she would set an example. "Do as you wish," she murmured. "It's never stopped you before."

"I pity his wife," Homura admitted. "I wonder if Hasu will return to her clan and raise the children as Yamanaka. If she stays with Mito…" He shuddered. Out of all the great people of yesteryear, Uzumaki Mito was the one who garnered the worst reputation after Hashirama's death. Although she carried herself with that regal, graceful demeanor; nobody would ever let her forget the time her seal cracked and Danzō's father died.

Koharu stopped walking, even though that ran the risk of being drenched in the downpour. "I don't want to think about politics right now. I wonder what it must be like: losing your soul mate." She looked into her teammate's eyes, past his fogged-up glasses and reached out to take one of his hands into both of hers. "I'd assume it's an all-consuming grief, one that leaves a void in your heart for the remainder of your life. What a sad way to be…"

"When you visit Torifu…"

Both council members turned around to see Kagami had followed from Morirama's memorial service. He remained always ten paces behind them: a small show of respect for their recent increase in societal status. Hiruzen's teammates were state officials now. Both of their faces tightened upon seeing the Uchiha man. "Please don't ask him. He's been through enough already."

Kagami's wife had been especially close with Torifu's wife. They knitted baby clothes together, shopped for groceries together, and even discussed home remedies on the regular. Neither woman had much interest in being a strong or powerful kunoichi, but rather a supportive figure to her husband. This, they had in common, among so many other things.

She'd skipped Morirama's service entirely, as had Torifu. Kagami told Danzō the reason for it was that she didn't want to leave Torifu alone with his thoughts. What he didn't say was the truth: she refused to attend because Morirama was a Senju. There would be far more Uchiha at the Akimichi service. Hiruzen's councilors would see that for themselves momentarily.

Homura tightened his lip, urging Koharu to walk faster unless she wished to be drenched. "Do you think Hiruzen will be able to go?" Koharu whispered in his ear. "Because if he can't do this for his friend…"

Very slowly, Homura shook his head. "His presence is required at Lady Mito's home." His free arm was now draped across Koharu's shoulders, keeping her close by his side.

Kagami's hands tightened on his umbrella handle. '_You're more transparent than you think. From where I stand, the both of you act more like lovers than colleagues._'

For years, Koharu and Homura insisted nothing was going on; but Kagami saw things that made him suspect their platonic efforts were nothing but a front. He pulled stunts like this with his wife. If it rained, he knew she'd be the one to go under the umbrella. If she forgot something at the store, he'd fetch it for her. But these two swore up and down they were only friends and teammates, nothing else. _'And if you intend to act like this the entire time; then perhaps it's best that you don't go, either.'_

…

It didn't feel right to host something at the cemetery. Everyone was already out there to pay their respects to Morirama and his family. Since the love of his life had always been a gentle, passive creature without a single competitive bone in her body, Torifu had instead opted to hold a more intimate get-together at the house.

Two memorial services in the same cemetery would turn into a contest, as well as a passive dig at Hiruzen's council. Did they dare to pull themselves away from the death of the Shodaime's last-surviving child long enough to comfort a grieving friend, or would decorum rule out?

'_At least this way, the only people coming are those who knew and loved her._' It wouldn't be big or fancy, but that was fine. Torifu had never been a grandiose person.

"Could you give me another roll of packing tape?" he called out to Kagami's wife. She had been a blessing in all this: opting to stay behind so he could get the house in order in time for the gathering. So far, he had packed nearly ten boxes of various items: his wife's clothes, her embroidery kit and tools, half-finished knitting projects for the baby they'd never have…

Dealing with the baby items hurt the worst because Amai agreed to go on that mission. Their child had no say in the matter and died just the same. Torifu hadn't slept since Danzō showed up at his doorstep to deliver the news. It was plague. She'd tried to heal the team, but was the second person in the party to die.

Did the baby feel the plague in the womb? Was it far enough along to experience pain? Was it still alive inside her when she died? Did it suffocate, or did it—

'_Her corpse is going to give a coffin birth eventually,_' he thought. Near the border between the Lands of Frost and Hot Water, his child would leave the comfort of its mother's womb only to find earth and decay. It would never take a breath of air or taste its mother's milk or feel the warmth of its father's arms.

And as much as Kagami's wife tried to remind him to think about the good times and remember his wife fondly, he couldn't help it. Maybe Torifu had hung out with Danzō for too long to think anything other than macabre thoughts. "Do you…" He spoke up. "Do you think you and Kagami could put any of these baby toys to good use? It's not like we need them anymore."

Nor would he ever need them in the future. Torifu planned to never let another woman into his life. Ladies weren't interchangeable. Nobody else in the whole of the world could ever manage to bring him as much joy as she had, so why even bother to try again?

"We shouldn't," she whispered apologetically. "It isn't that I don't appreciate the offer, but taking things from a dead child is bad luck."

Into the attic it went, along with every hope and dream he ever had. If he wanted to mentally torture himself later, he could go up there and look at what this new regime managed to snatch from him within Hiruzen's first week in office.

'_But you're not coming, are you? You'll have tea with Lady Mito and offer her hollow words about how sorry you are this terrible thing happened to her son. Me, though? You won't even look me in the eye! You'll avoid me as though __**I**__ had the plague, because I'm living proof you fucked up._'

…

Even some of Torifu's neighbors didn't realize his wife died. They incorrectly assumed that the trickling stream of people arriving at the house were there for some sort of party, possibly a baby shower, now that the rain cleared up. The savory scent of roasting meat paired with rosemary filled the air: sturdier and far more delicious than any flower. The hum of many voices (mostly Akimichi) joined together as white noise while each one recounted their best story about the deceased.

"Amai was a fine lady. Very fine. Maybe she wasn't a formal medic, but she treated my husband's kidney stones for free. An appointment at the hospital costs about as much as a D-Rank, so that's something we'll always look back on with gratitude."

"Every time we ran into each other at the market, she always asked after my children. My youngest is so sickly, you know…"

"She would have made a fine mother. My parents used to ask her to babysit me and keep me out of trouble. I never acted up for her…"

Some guests brought gifts. Many of the Akimichi, Nara, and Yamanaka women brought dishes, offering to place them in the icebox so Torifu wouldn't have to worry about what to eat for the rest of the week. Everything would be waiting for him, but he honestly didn't feel hungry.

Chōmei, the acting head of the Akimichi Clan, made her presence known very quickly. Everyone else parted for her when she arrived: fluffy red hair, full regalia, and all. As soon as she spotted Torifu in the crowd, she bear-hugged him. "If you need _anything_," she whispered, "tell me."

'_The only thing I need is my wife back,_' he thought, but he kept it only as a thought. "You're kind, Chōmei-_sama_, but don't let me trouble you or Tatsuya-_sama_."

And from what he could tell, Tatsuya wasn't even all that bothered by this. He was talking in the corner with an Uchiha couple he recognized as Naka and Naori from the Konoha Military Police Force. Although he didn't know either one of them well, Tatsuya at least knew enough from Kagami to know he didn't _want_ to. Uchiha Naka had the highest kill count of any Konoha shinobi still standing, but rumor had it nearly half of them were his own men.

Yet according to Kagami, Naka's wife was scarier. Naori's eyes caught Torifu's, however. She approached slowly, still holding her infant daughter in a sling. Torifu heard other rumors about the child: that she was born the same day the Nidaime died, that his friend's clan saw that somehow as auspicious…

But Naori's child was nothing but a baby: just like the one Torifu and Amai spent the past few months preparing for. It wasn't the little girl's fault she got wrapped up into any of this. "Is it alright if I hold her?" Torifu asked, reaching for the infant. Naori quietly nodded and presented her daughter. "What's her name?"

"Yuka," she answered. "I'm sorry to hear about your wife, Torifu. There's no part of this that isn't a tragedy."

"I beg to differ," he murmured. "One part of this is a sick joke. You see that man over there?" At some point in the gathering, Danzō managed to slip past the crowd and into the home. There he stood, nodding his head and listening to all these bittersweet stories with a rehearsed remorseful expression on his face. "_That's_ the joke. My wife died because of him and he feels nothing."

"That's odd…" Naori blinked her eyes several times. "I thought she died because of the plague. That's not true…?"

…

After a few cold condolences to Mito and Hasu, this was the service Danzō actually wanted to attend. For Morirama, he felt no remorse. That man was an obstacle and tried to drive a wedge between Hiruzen and himself. Why else would he have proposed an election, knowing ahead of time that neither one of them stood a chance of defeating him?

That two-faced ass preached of fairness and justice. He believed in tradition and continuing in the good family's name. In his final moments, did Morirama realize he'd exemplified the morals of his uncle more than his father? Because causing a rift between Danzō and his teammates was a stroke of genius. This was Morirama's revenge from beyond the grave.

'…_and_ _I took the bait,_' Danzō realized, shivering. All around him, people talked about what a lovely woman this poor girl was and how sad it was that she died well before her time. '_He knew I gave him a suicide mission. Refusing it ran the risk of marking him as a traitor, so of course he accepted. This, though…_'

Such a nice girl. What a great mother she'd be. What a perfect wife she was. Amai was the "best friend" of so many. How beloved. How sad. How empty the world felt now.

Then he started to hear it. Why wasn't the Hokage here? Wasn't Torifu his friend? Didn't Danzō coordinate this mission? How could he show his face? Was it intentional?

In another ten years, people would be too scared to ever publicly doubt the Third Hokage ever again. He'd make sure of it. Today, though, the whispers ran rampant, scurrying about like frightened mice in the presence of a cat.

'_You were a genius in your own right, Morirama. Choosing her and letting her die has alienated me in a way I never could have—'_

"You have some nerve, thinking you needed to be here."

Danzō turned around to see his teammate. Since he came on bended knee to apologize to Torifu, he hadn't uttered a word to either one of them. This was it, though. He could feel in his bones that every last ounce of patience and friendship they once felt for him was gone. Kagami's sharingan wasn't on. In a place like this, that would be interpreted as a threat. "Is it so hard to believe that I feel guilty?"

"Yes…" Kagami's eyes narrowed. "Because it's _you_. As far back as I've known you, Danzō; you've only ever thought about yourself. You could have told forbade Amai from accepting that mission. You could have signed off on having a qualified medic like _Biwako_ go. She would have, you know. She's devastated."

True to Kagami's word, Danzō saw Biwako over there, dabbing at her eyes and talking in a hurried frenzy with several other women. At one point, she hugged Torifu and refused to let go, even once he started squirming to break free. Compared to Torifu's hefty, stocky body, Biwako's petite frame looked almost comically tiny. But there was no humor here. Only two angry ghosts: mother and child alike. "In retrospect, I—"

"In retrospect, my ass. You never would have considered that, would you? Because you dated Biwako. Because you _like_ Biwako."

"I cared about my teammate's happiness! That woman was his—"

"_My teammate. That woman_…" Kagami had been the peacemaker on the squad for so long that he was finally starting to crack. Kagami pushed Danzō's chest, knocking him against the wall. "Call them by their fucking _names_ if they meant so much to you! Did you even bother to _learn_ Amai's name?! Or was she always just _Torifu's wife_ to you?!"

Danzō skipped that wedding. The night before, he ate something that disagreed with him and ended up spending the following day at home with food poisoning. Several times, he walked down the hallway and found himself too weak to make it to his destination. So he'd sit, sweat, and fan himself until his legs began to work again. Then the nausea came back and the whole house smelled of—

"Get out," Kagami growled. "Everyone's about to go outside and share their fondest memories. You don't deserve to be part of that."


	13. Fanned Flames

**No matter where Danzō's feet were planted, the ground shook in rage. If he reached to grab for something, it rattled. Then a roar far stronger than any powerful wind blew through the air. These were the howls of a terrible beast large enough to destroy everything in its path.**

**The people of Konoha ran in every direction, screaming and trying their best to find any sort of shelter from the hell unleashed upon them. Tents and blankets weren't enough to shelter them from the nightmare. Walls weren't much better. The predator just outside their borders could destroy entire sections of the surrounding forest using nothing but one of its massive tails. Every howl tore past another chunk of wall.**

**No man, woman, or child unfortunate enough to be within the destroyed wall's trajectory path was spared. They fell over like bowling pins, leaving blood red skids and the occasional torn limb behind.**

**"RUN FASTER!" Danzō ordered, squeezing his classmate's hand tightly. Their Academy teacher, Inuzuka Unubore, paired the children off at random to seek shelter: always a boy with a girl. His partner, Nara Usako, sat to his right for most of the day. She never spoke up much in class, typically sleeping through it and waiting until the last minute to do her homework. Today, every last ounce of life poured in her bewildered heart because she wanted to live. "HURRY!"**

**"I'm…" Usako puffed for air, starting to gasp. "I ****_can't, _****Danzō. I…****_hn_****…" She pulled a pendant-like item from a necklace and breathed into it a few times; her voice starting to sound a bit less wheezy. **

**'****_She's asthmatic…_****' That would greatly slow down their hurry to safety. The girl kept giving him apologetic looks, but Danzō couldn't do anything with an apology. ****_Sorry_**** wouldn't count for much of anything if they died out here! "Does that help?" Usako nodded her head, a few stray wispy pieces of jet black hair falling to the front of her face as it came loose from her too-tight bun. "Can you run?"**

**"For a little while…" She squeezed his hand again, trying to make sure he didn't leave her behind. As scared as he was, he didn't want to do that, either.**

**"SENSEI!" he yelled. "UNUBORE-****_SENSEI_****!" The portly Inuzuka man lifted his head. The ground rumbled beneath their feet. Those vibrations paired hellishly with the frightened screams of grown shinobi trying to flee from whatever this offending presence was. Their sensei was a decorated chūnin, but this thing left his knees quaking like a newborn fawn's. "WHAT'S GOING ON? WHAT ****_IS_**** THAT THING?!"**

**"Kyūbi," Unubore barked. "The nine-tailed fox: the creature of death and destruction. Kids, that's death itself out there!"**

**'****_Death itself?_****' Danzō's entire body felt cold, save for his stomach. The contents of his belly soured, twisting and turning into frantic knots. '****_We're all going to die?_****' Usako trembled, which only made his own anxiety climb. '****_Is there any way to escape it?_****'**

**"Everyone, please!" Unubore roared at the top of his lungs. "Stick together! We need to make it to the shelter before it comes any closer!"**

**Another howl. Another rage from the beast. Off in the distance, Danzō caught sight of an orange tail and sucked in a nervous breath. "It's okay," Usako whispered to him. "I'm scared, too."**

**"Shut up! I'm not scared!"**

**The next roar was so loud that every wall in the village reverberated. The children scattered, despite their sensei's pleas to stick together. Usako ran like the frightened rabbit she was named for, though she kept stopping to catch her breath. Danzō begrudgingly stayed at her side, considering he was responsible for her. After all, what kind of a man left a lady to fend for herself against—**

**A major wall collapsed. Danzō tried to shove Usako out of the way, knowing she was too out of air to do it herself. The action came too late. When the debris rushed at them, he narrowly escaped it. The Nara girl wasn't so lucky.**

**The scream she made was one he'd remember forever. Until that moment, he never realized human beings could make sounds like that. It came out high-pitched, shrill, and reminded him far too much of the animals his father hunted in the woods. It was one thing to hear it from a beast; but from a girl he'd known since Academy started, from a kid too weak to even run a kilometer without feeling faint…**

**When he finally worked up the courage to open his eyes again and brushed the dust off his face, the first thing he noticed was the blood pooling beneath the shattered concrete and wood. Usako stared up at him, her face scarlet and hot from tears as she gasped for air. Her entire lower body from the pelvis down was shattered and trapped beneath the collapsed wall.**

**Her dark eyes were wide open and blood spurted out of her mouth. When she wheezed, she gurgled, reaching for Danzō's hand to pull her out. "It won't do anything!" Danzō kept trying to tell her, pushing his hand away. "All I can do is get help. I have to go, Usako! I—"**

**But she wouldn't let him. When he tried to run, her shadow caught him and held him in place. ****_Don't leave me behind_****, her face pleaded. ****_Don't leave me to die alone_****. In her dying moments, she needed somebody to latch onto. He was available. He was vulnerable. He was—**

**He was only free again when the next part of the building toppled over and crushed her. All he saw now was Nara Usako's lone snow white hand sticking out from the debris: still reaching for a hand to rescue her. It twitched for a few seconds and then turned motionless.**

**All around him, he couldn't find any other classmates. They'd scattered like roaches. All Danzō could see were the dead, the injured, and those trying desperately to seek shelter. As childish as it was, all he wanted at that moment was the comfort and protection of a parent. So he ran toward the western gate, despite the fact he could see more of the killer fox as he approached.**

**His father managed the village borders. His main outpost was on the western end, facing toward the Land of Wind. '****_Otou-san…please. Please, be alive out there!_****' And since Danzō couldn't find Hiruzen, Torifu, Kagami, Unubore-****_sensei_****, or anyone else; he'd run in the one direction he felt he was certain to find safety again.**

**Buildings fell. People collapsed. Horrible noises followed him at every twist and turn. Danzō darted past the obstacles as best he could: wishing the nightmare would end already. But it wasn't a dream. It was an ugly reality and that thing really was setting itself out to destroy every last part of the village. Konoha would turn to dust, leaving nothing but some flimsy alliances between old enemies behind. ****_Disaster_****, ****_despair, disorder and entropy_****…**

**As he ran, he felt his own breath turn short, almost as if Usako's angry ghost decided to squeeze the life out of his lungs for leaving her to die. '****_It wasn't my fault! You slipped! I wasn't strong enough to help you. It's not my fault! It's not!_****'**

**More people lurched about, limping from injuries or fatigue. Either their eyes still carried the heated flame of life or it was snuffed out by watching those near them lose their lives to this approaching chaos. '****_Who would do such a thing!? Weren't the villages supposed to bring us peace?!_****'**

**But then he thought about it. Some clans didn't join Konoha. Some clans had their ancestral lands taken away from them in the expansion campaign. The land that now belonged to his clan, once belonged to the Hagoromo family. The Hagoromos didn't join Konoha. If anything, they kept coming back every few months to try to assassinate the Hokage. Was it them?**

**Or maybe one of the dozens of foreign clans the Hokage turned away because they were too dangerous or their demands were too high? Or another new village? Even though Konoha preached peace, that didn't mean the others did. The world was expanding again, growing in ugly new ways with each passing day.**

**It could be the Hidden Cloud, the Hidden Stone, the Hidden Sand, the Hidden Mist, or—**

**But it wasn't. Once Danzō made it to the outpost and could get a good enough view, he saw for himself that this wasn't an affront from a clan or a village. It was only one man, but that's all it would take considering who he was. Standing out there against the Shodaime was a man who played an equal role in Konoha's creation. And just as he co-created it, he believed that gave him the right to destroy it.**

**'****_Uchiha Madara._****'**

…

The dream could have gone longer, had Yamanaka Hanako's son not poked Danzō in the chin and startled him out of his dream. It wasn't the flooded house dream anymore, but a genuine memory. This, though: why was it that since his argument with Kagami, he now kept thinking about what transpired the day the kyūbi was unleashed in Konoha?

"You're okay now," the little boy, Nori, informed him. "The bad dream's gone."

Danzō had to wonder if that child was going to be the third teammate to Tsunade and Orochimaru. Hiruzen hadn't chosen his third student yet, and Nori was in the same class. While he wasn't a prodigy like Orochimaru; the boy was clever, resourceful, and gifted in his clan's psychic arts.

It made sense that Nori had plenty of potential. Hanako was the daughter of the clan head prior to Osamu. She'd married a powerful man and their child's test scores consistently placed him in the Academy's top five. Nori would make a fine interrogator like Zassō someday, Danzō supposed, though he couldn't help but find it mildly amusing that the boy was already every bit as nosy and invasive as his mother.

He'd stop Hiruzen from choosing Nori, even if he had to give him a bullshit answer to convince him to pick someone else. '_Choosing a Yamanaka means you'll have to choose a Nara and an Akimichi, too,_' he could argue. '_You already upset the balance by choosing two children from neither clan.'_

"No, Nori," Danzō replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he leaned upward on the couch. "It's still there. The next time I close my eyes; it will still be there, waiting for me."

Yamanaka pupils remained as tiny as pinpricks, giving their eyes a glossy and dead look. Nori's eyes were every bit as gray as Hanako's rather than the gentle cornflower blue of Morirama's widow. "But you'll fight it, right? It's just a dream. It's not like it can win."

'_You're wrong, child. It can, and he almost did.' _Had the Shodaime been only a little weaker, this entire place would have perished. And the more Danzō thought about it, the more the anxiety crept in. '_Hiruzen isn't Hashirama. If Mito loses control of the kyūbi again, we'd be at a loss to contain it. Losing her last child could be enough to tip her over the edge. Or she could die and take the beast down with her…but there's eight more out there. The two of us only ever saw the kyūbi. We never confronted it._'

"Are you trying to coach me, Nori? Is your mother really so busy that she's letting you play dream therapist in her place?"

He heard a low laugh from the background. The door shut, soon followed by the sound of a man taking off his coat and shoes. Danzō turned around to see Zassō returned home from another long day at Torture & Interrogation. "You're not bothering Danzō-_sama._ Are you, son?"

"But _otou-san_, his dream was—"

"Nori." Danzō watched as the boy turned to face him again. He looked bashful: like he was afraid of getting in trouble. "I want you to be honest with me. Did you read my dream?" Apologetically, the young Yamanaka nodded his head and averted his gaze. He didn't fidget, but there was no mistaking his face as anything other than guilty. "Then you should know that everything that happened was real."

"I know. Dreams are honest places. _Okaa-san _says people lie when they're awake, especially to themselves. Dreams are the one place where all guards are down and you can see a person's true self."

What the hell did that mean? Was his true self still Nori's age: running in terror from something that could destroy his whole world with the flick of a tail? God, he hoped not.

'_But I didn't run away from it,_' he reminded himself. '_After Usako died, I ran __**toward**__ it. All I was concerned about was finding my father to make sure he was safe._' Not that Daichi appreciated it. He'd shaken Danzō with so much force and anger that the boy thought his head would fall off.

But all he had to do was watch Hashirama stand his own against that madman. Off in the horizon, Madara stood upon the kyūbi's head and ordered the fox to do his bidding. Hashirama had his own wooden titan and held his own in the great conflict. It lasted for seemingly hours, and all Danzō could do was watch from the distance at the Konoha gates.

Madara was defeated, though. Hashirama put an end to his treachery. And later, Tobirama did the same thing to Uchiha Setsuna.

'_But their presence at the Nidaime's funeral was small. It was even smaller for Morirama. They might…_' He took in a deep breath. "Zassō?" The man of the house lifted up his head. "Nori was fine for me. I just didn't expect your wife to be so busy."

"Well…" Zassō shrugged. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but you aren't the only person having troubled dreams. The Hokage has to take priority, you know?"

…

There was a tickle in the back of his throat, but that was the least of the Raikage's worries.

All across A's arms, back, thighs, groin, chest, and neck were a prolific crop of boils. In the past two days, his medic had to lance and drain at least ten massive welts. The infected skin was stretched so thin that it turned the pink color of raw meat with a bruised, purplish undertone. At the slightest provocation, blood and pus could erupt from his sick body like a volcano.

For this reason, A ordered his finest medics to meet him in a bunker nearly a hundred kilometers away from the Kumogakure border. As their Raikage, he had to fight the good fight against this illness before he could face the masses again. For now, his best friend would have to carry on village affairs in his stead.

When the second squad of medics arrived, they were greeted by a Raikage who was every bit as bandaged up as the Nidaime Tsuchikage. But Mū did so to keep himself visible. At this moment, A wanted to contain and hide his damaged body. Each cough felt like thirty cane lashes to the back. Most of the bandages had already soaked through with blood and a pale pink fluid.

"I can't go back like this," A informed them. "And I have to quarantine the corpse until we finish our research. Contagious or not, he's still a game-changer." For this, he heard no opposition. "But the plague…do you have anything for the plague?"

"Lord Raikage." A dark-skinned medic with fluffy blonde hair got down on his knees and presented a large cinnabar container. "This salve will help. Apply it to the boils and they will reduce in size. Most of your pain comes from the boils. If we can get those to stop, then we can guarantee your life will no longer be in danger."

Next to him, a pale woman dressed completely in white presented a second treatment: a collection of syringes and vials. "Opioids will stop your cough. You're damaging your lungs and throat by coughing. More blood is coming out, and this will also help with the pain. We synthesized this. Heroin is stronger than morphine and smoking opium. All I have to do is inject it and—"

He had no interest in medicine, but wanted these people here not only to help prolong his life, but to study the corpse. "And what of the corpse? I've given it some of my chakra every day to keep it from rotting."

The medics all reached for gloves and masks, wanting to be as sanitary in death's den as possible. They went deeper and deeper into the chamber, letting A guide the way. There, eternally resting like a parody of a fairy tale prince, was the disease-ridden son of Senju Hashirama. Beneath the boils and the injuries was a man who had been handsome and charming in life.

The woman gloved up and took a deep breath from beneath her surgical mask. She stroked some of the corpse's long hair out of his face. Beneath the mask, she smirked. "He doesn't look too much like his father, does he? I thought Hashirama was sun-tanned with dark hair."

"Did you see his brother?" the male medic quipped back.

"Yeah. He doesn't look like him, either. You're sure that's who you claim it is, Nidaime?"

A nodded. "The last time I tried negotiating with the Hidden Leaf, he was guarding his uncle. I recognized him the moment his mask came off." And when the woman pulled off the corpse's trousers to place a needle between his legs, A couldn't watch. "What are you doing?"

"Collecting semen," she answered. "Just in case the _mokuton_ is a hereditary trait." Not a single man in that room wanted to watch. Every sound made them wince. "Kuroi?" the blonde medic lifted his head again. "Scalpel, please. It might just be better to take both testes."

…

Ahead of him, Danzō saw Koharu and Homura whispering something to each other. They were keeping a professional distance, but he'd taken notice of how much color was in their faces every time they talked alone like that. Koharu was practically glowing and it was the only time Danzō ever saw Homura smile.

"I need your help with something."

Danzō stopped packing his things and noticed just how restless and anxious his best friend appeared to be. Even outside of the Hokage robes, Hiruzen couldn't shake that burden from his shoulders. It wasn't audible yet, but he expected a plea of some sort to leave the Sarutobi man's lips fairly soon.

"I figured you'd have a better approach on this matter, seeing as Torifu's your teammate. You know him better than I do."

"Hiruzen…" He had a sneaking suspicion he knew what this was about. Danzō had asked his ANBU to keep tabs on both Kagami and Torifu after the spat at the memorial service. To his knowledge, neither man knew they were being spied on, but Danzō wanted to see just how deep the anguish went.

Torifu's grief was inconsolable. He mostly stayed at the house, surrounded by his wife's mementos and clutter. Some nights, when he thought no one was around to see him, he'd place the half-knitted baby blanket under his pillow or sleep with something that used to belong to her. A few times, Danzō's spy reported Torifu would spritz a bit of his Amai's perfume on a handkerchief and sniff it for over an hour.

Had this been any man he didn't know, Danzō would have called these actions pathetic, but this was eating at him. '_She had a chance to recuse herself. Amai could have said no. Someone else could have easily gone, but she accepted. The fault's not fully mine. I gave her a way out and she didn't take it._'

"What exactly are you asking me?" He wanted Hiruzen to clarify. More information was needed. Would he ask him how to cheer Torifu up? If so, Danzō would tell him this was impossible: that a heart that broken couldn't be mended.

"I'm asking you to talk Torifu down from what he wants to do." For this, judging by how Hiruzen's hand twitched, he was thinking about reaching for a pipe and having a long, relaxing smoke. "He's volunteered to retrieve Morirama's body."

"That's—"

"_Alone_, Danzō. I'm worried that he doesn't value his life anymore. I already told Torifu I can't let him fly solo on this, and that he'll need to take a team with him. Perhaps one of your ANBU can—"

"No." For this, he'd put his foot down. "I got him into this mess. I should try my best to pull him out of it."

Hiruzen sat, hand still twitching from anxiety. He covered it with his other hand in an attempt to steady it. There were many things going on behind closed doors that even Danzō didn't know about. Aside from having to deal with Torifu's grief, other diplomats were asking to meet. More than this, Hiruzen's mother was now pressuring more than ever for him to settle down, marry, and start a family. The fear of him becoming married to his job and putting an end to Sarutobi Sasuke's line was a legitimate fear for her.

Were it fully up to him, Hiruzen would have considered it. The people he needed at his side were already there. Having a family could only complicate matters, but another side of him agreed with his mother. Deep down, he _did_ want to start a family someday. But after seeing for himself what could become of a dynasty, he wasn't completely sold on the idea. Back and forth, his mind went. And in those moments where he turned ambivalent, that's what Danzō was for.

Danzō always had ideas. If Hiruzen got stuck, Danzō could either pitch a proposal he agreed with…or one Hiruzen so fervently disagreed with that he'd create a Plan B on the spot. "If I let you go, who would balance me out? Koharu? Homura?"

"When you became Hokage, you promised me that the only person I would ever have to submit to is _you_. Torifu's my teammate, Sarutobi: my comrade in arms. My mistake ruined his life. Please, allow me to—"

"Take one of your ANBU with you, then: one that you actually trust to watch your back. It's not that I don't trust you; or that I think Torifu is plotting anything; but…" Hiruzen hissed in a deep breath. "I've lost enough friends to last me a lifetime."

'_Get used to it,_' Danzō wanted to tell him. '_You're still young. You're Hokage, no less. There's no telling how many more friends and loved ones you'll have to send to the slaughter to keep this place afloat._'

"I have very few ANBU I trust at that level, Sarutobi. Most of them were loyal to Morirama. I've already terminated contracts with the captains and mid-ranking officers. I'm starting from scratch with my own people. Rather than ANBU, I have somebody else I wish to request."

Hiruzen continued to hold his hand in place, but Danzō saw it move. His anxiety was building, reaching a point where he could barely contain it. "Who is it? Word is you've spent a lot of time with Yamanaka Hanako lately. Are you asking her to—"

"Kagami needs to come with us."

Hiruzen's eyes grew big. "The Hidden Cloud already took Morirama's body. You want to give them a chance to steal an _Uchiha_, too!?"

"It won't come to that," Danzō promised, pulling Hiruzen to someplace a little quieter so they could talk uninterrupted. It was a back alley next to a closed storefront. Nobody was around, not for half a kilometer. "If Kagami falls in the line of duty, I give you my word. His body will either come home or be destroyed. The same is true for Torifu."

"You want to use this as a chance to make amends with your team, don't you? You want them to forgive you." But Hiruzen could tell there was more. "What else? You're hiding something."

"This isn't about forgiveness. I'm suggesting Kagami because he's a liability." It was blunt, abrupt, and damning. Hiruzen was dumbfounded that his best friend would even propose such a thing. Wasn't Kagami Danzō's friend, too!? "I'm already seeing the warning signs. Ever since the Nidaime died, Kagami's clan has shown signs of unrest. That and they refuse to give the proper respect to your officials."

Kagami's words had been scathing at the memorial service, but Danzō could chalk that up to grief rather than some cruel agenda. "But if that isn't enough to raise concerns, let me ask you something. When we were surrounded by the Kinkaku Squad and the Nidaime died for our sakes, _who_ proposed we use a decoy?"

Hiruzen's silence told him all he needed to know: he'd agree to letting Kagami join this mission, but didn't want to hear anything else. Too bad.

"The person who proposed we sacrifice a party member for the sake of the group was the one person in our squad who _couldn't_ volunteer. It's pretty ingenious, if you think about it."

"Danzō, I don't—"

"Do you honestly think Lord Second would have allowed any of us to sacrifice ourselves for the group? _Especially_ you?"

Hiruzen's head was spinning: horrified and appalled by these words, but incapable of telling his friend to stop. "No," he admitted. "He wouldn't. Even though your squad was just an escort unit, we were the next generation. We embodied the village he and his brother worked so hard to create."

"So of course he'd take the bait," Danzō murmured. "Without proposing any further solutions, he took Kagami's word for it and threw his life away to save ours. Hiruzen…" He moved close enough to brush his lips against his friend's ear. "Do you even _want_ to know what my ANBU reported back to me? What sort of things the Uchiha Clan says about you behind your back?"

There had been a tiny bit of awkward good news Hiruzen wanted to share, but now was no longer the time. That could wait until Danzō came back from this mission, either with or without his team. "I don't have to hear it. I believe you. But do be careful, alright? When you come back, I really need to talk to you about something else."

"Hokage business?"

"No. _Personal_ business…" Yet when Danzō left to begin his preparations for that mission, Hiruzen felt nothing but chills. The air around them was finally starting to warm up, so why did he feel so cold?


	14. Schism

Hiruzen woke to a light flowery fragrance: a delicate, feminine scent. When he rolled over, he realized his nose had been right beneath Biwako's long chestnut hair. What he caught in the air was the smell of her shampoo. "Hey there, Hokage," she whispered at him teasingly. She moved her right hand to poke his nose.

"How long were you awake?"

"Don't worry," she replied, snuggling closer. "It's only been about five minutes. I figured you needed every minute of rest your body would allow."

Hiruzen fought back a snicker. "Not beauty sleep, Biwako?"

She rolled her dark eyes at that, as well as the rest of her body. When she did so, more of the covers moved. Her shoulders and collarbone were bare and visible to him, along with the matching faint pink love bites on either side of her neck. If he craned his neck even a little more, he'd be able to see the beginning of her small, girlish cleavage. "Naaaaah," she joked. "You're already the prettiest princess in Konoha."

For that, she braced herself, knowing he was going to roll over again and tickle her sides. Once she felt the fingers by her ribs, her legs began to flail about in abandon. Her laughs were loud enough that were anyone downstairs, they'd hear her. She was half sure Hiruzen's neighbors heard her squeals.

It all happened so quickly. Danzō blew his chance with her. Then the incident with Morirama happened. While Biwako felt bad that one of his first major decisions ended in the death of somebody so important, she saw for herself how badly the death had impacted Hiruzen. She'd been a shoulder to cry on at first: giving him a place to bare all his sadness and sorrow before someone he trusted.

Biwako had always wanted an honest partner: one who could tell her anything and be there to listen to her as well when an open ear and open heart were needed. It hadn't taken long for her to realize that Hiruzen was exactly that.

Neither one of them planned for this to happen, especially nowhere near as quickly. They'd moved toward each other like magnets: realizing that once they clashed, this was what they'd always wanted. Hiruzen would have a best friend by his side who didn't hold his position as Hokage against him. Biwako could have a man in her life who wasn't afraid to bare his heart to her. They already had that connection long before the relationship turned to love.

But within only a couple of weeks of a breakup: was that too soon? "Have you told Danzō yet? It's cruel, almost. This has been going on since the memorial service..."

"I haven't brought it up." And Hiruzen would continue to feel like garbage until he confronted Danzō about this like a man. "I'm not even sure I know how to. What do I say: that I'm dating his ex and I'm _serious_ about it? Biwako…"

She tapped his leg, offering him a friendlier smile than the multitude of forced and fake ones his teammates offered. "It won't break into a fight," she reassured him. "I'm sure he'll be sad when you tell him; but Danzō has more grace and dignity than you give him credit for."

But Hiruzen didn't see it that way. All he could imagine was a shouting match complete with Danzō's furious, shaky fists reaching for his shirt collar and dragging him closer: livid, outraged, unforgiving…

"Besides…" Biwako sat upright, reaching for Hiruzen's pipe so she could smoke a little. She turned around to face him: looking so lovely in that early morning light. To be a tease, she blew a smoke ring. "I wasn't _that_ important to him."

No. Just because Danzō kept Biwako at arm's length, that didn't necessarily mean she was unimportant to him. Danzō seldom confided in anyone; even a best friend or romantic partner. After the breakup, he'd seemed more melancholic than usual. Maybe Biwako didn't realize the impact she had, but Hiruzen did. It's why he'd dodged this for so long.

"Even so, the thought of hurting him…" Hiruzen sighed and reached for the pipe. Biwako handed it over without any argument. "I need to find a way to broach the subject without invoking his wrath. I was thinking about handling this logically."

"What do you mean?"

"It makes sense that I'd want to marry within my own clan," Hiruzen began. "If I fancied a woman in another clan enough to marry her—or worse: I chose somebody _foreign_—what would stop that clan from thinking they could get preferential treatment over the others? They'd suddenly have a Hokage son-in-law. And even if I stayed neutral on matters of state with them, the other clans wouldn't see it that way, would they?"

Biwako's cute little smile turned into a flat line, but she let him continue.

"The most controversial thing Morirama did was marry a Yamanaka. I'm a little surprised Hasu's clan didn't try to endorse him. All I can figure is Lord Osamu learned his lesson about dabbling in politics last time."

"Or maybe he remembered that having a Sarutobi in the seat was just as good as having a Yamanaka," Biwako countered. "Or an Akimichi or Nara, for that matter. Our four clans are close and always have been."

"But could you imagine what would have happened if _I'd_ married a Yamanaka?" Hiruzen took another drag of the pipe. "I'd never hear the end of it from Osamu, Shikaru, or Chōmei. And that's nothing compared to the rest of the village! My only safe move is to keep it in the clan. And out of the Sarutobi girls, ha…well, you're _certainly_ the best by a long shot. I wouldn't consider anyone else."

"All Danzō's going to hear from that is that you're marrying me out of necessity rather than what this actually is. You _do_ love me, don't you?"

"Of course I do! And I'm going to do all I can to keep you happy and spoil you rotten!" Hiruzen handed the pipe back to her, but Biwako held up a hand to indicate she'd rather not. Instead, she got up and reached to dress herself. Hiruzen helped her tie the back of her dress and heard a small _thanks_ leave her lips. "Would you rather I just told him the truth: that we simply ended up falling for each other?"

"I don't care how you broach the subject," Biwako grumbled, "but you need to do it before he leaves. Imagine what would happen if you chicken out and he finds out we're married by the time he gets back?"

"Oh god…" And as awful a friend as it made him feel for thinking it, Hiruzen couldn't help but believe the wedding would be a far more joyous occasion without Danzō there. "I haven't even held onto this position for a month, but I've already lost too many people. I can't stand to lose him, too."

"Well…" Biwako wrapped her arms around his shoulders, giving the scruff on his chin a kiss. "_I'm_ not going anywhere."

"You promise?"

"Hell yeah, I promise!" She beamed. "I plan on sticking around to nag your charming ass until you _retire._ But do be careful with Danzō, would you? He's a more delicate flower than he lets on. It only takes one cruel move to burn a bridge forever."

…

It was the warmest part of the day: near noon. The sun sat high atop the sky and cast its beams upon its subjects in maximum brightness. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, save for the waves of pollen coming from the nearby trees. Almost everything outside Kagami's home had the faint gold brush of plant pollen upon it, causing his wife's allergies to go into overdrive. Her lips were chapped from using her mouth to breathe exclusively.

Though as much as Kagami's wife hated the spring, Torifu typically liked it. It was like Hiruzen said in his inaugural speech: all the dead things came back to life. '_Not this time,_' the Akimichi thought, glancing down at one of the few non-combat items he'd packed in his bag for the retrieval mission. There, remaining in his hand, was a rose pink handkerchief that still smelled like his wife's perfume.

He'd sat on the porch for nearly an hour as his Uchiha teammate scrambled to pack for the mission. In Torifu's opinion, he could have done this alone. If he died out there by himself, the only people who would mourn him would be his mother, Kagami, a couple of friends, and perhaps his clan head. His line was going to end, anyway, seeing as he had no plans to remarry. Who better to send for bullshit like this than a man with nothing left to lose?

Kagami still had a wife who loved him and two wonderful daughters. The baby on the way was a boy, according to the Hyūga physician who last checked the pregnancy. At long last, he'd have his son. Going on this mission meant he'd probably miss the birth.

'_If anyone else has to go, let it be someone like Danzō,_' Torifu thought. '_This is more suited for somebody without a wife and kids waiting for him at home.'_ The rushed, awkward pattering of Kagami's feet on the dark wood floor made the Akimichi man turn around. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Kind of," Kagami confessed, though his cheeks were a tad pink from frustration. "I just need a few more minutes. Something's wrong with my bag."

Torifu raised an eyebrow, wondering what Kagami meant, but silently nodded. He understood. There wasn't too much of a rush for this mission, seeing as the person they were retrieving was already deceased.

Kagami first noticed something was amiss when he reached for a kunai and instead of being able to open a box, the blade curled. Upon further inspection, the weapons were dull instead of glossy and no light reflected off them. Curious, he squeezed the handle, only to realize what was going on when the weapon squished, then bounced back into place. Once he realized what was amiss, he grumbled a few choice profanities.

"What's the matter?"

Kagami moved closer and offered the kunai to Torifu. "Azami swapped my weapons for her toys."

"How do you know it was Azami?"

"I'm her father. I just know." Azami was five years old: his firstborn and definitely the craftier of his two daughters.

His little one, Kaede, had already followed him from room to room, dragging her giant stuffed rabbit with her. The plush toy's legs were now covered in dust and pollen from being used as a makeshift broom across the floor. Every once in a while, Kagami asked her if she wanted to come closer and give him a goodbye kiss. Kaede then tottered off and disappeared…at least until Kagami made it to the next room. Then she'd come back and stare at him again.

Azami, though? Azami had voiced her displeasure over this mission so loudly that she spent most of yesterday evening in time out. "She's not taking this very well. She's convinced she'll end up like Tsunade if I take this mission."

"That's a valid fear, Kagami. She _could_," Torifu warned. "I don't think the Hidden Cloud will give up Morirama's corpse so easily. If I die out there, the only people who are going to mourn me are friends and extended family. Amai's dead and I don't have any children. You have a lovely wife, two adorable little girls, and a third baby on the way. A _son_, no less! You should re—"

"I'm still going, okay? You can't talk me out of this!" Kagami patted his friend's knee as they continued sitting on the porch. "And Azami won't be successful in making me stay, either. She'll get over it." Although the words came out so easily, Kagami didn't fully believe them. That little girl could hold a grudge better than most adults he knew; Danzō included.

"May I interrupt?" Kagami's wife came to the porch with a small bag in her arms. "I heard you two, and…" She sounded so weak: so resigned to the fact no sweet words would convince her husband to abandon the mission. "Here." She held out his fully packed weapons bag. "I checked them myself. They're the real thing and everything's accounted for. I also added a first aid kit for good measure. Just promise me something?"

"I promise," Kagami vowed. "I'll come home."

"Don't worry about him," Torifu called out. "I'm more interested in keeping Kagami safe than I am in finding what's left of Morirama."

"You two…" His face was red. "You make it sound like I can't do anything on my own." He pulled the toy weapon kit out of his bag and reached for the real kit. For a moment, his hand touched his wife's.

Hiruzen bought the toys for Kagami's daughters as a Rinne Festival gift. It felt like an eternity ago, even though only four months had passed. The Nidaime was still alive. Team Tobirama still lorded themselves around as the lucky squad with the best mentor. The only crime Danzō was guilty of was an occasional bout of behaving like an asshole. Even then, it was never so bad that his team refused to forgive him.

Now, here they were. Within Hiruzen's first month in charge, the Nidaime's nephew was dead, the Shodaime's only grandchild lost her father, and Torifu was doomed to spend the rest of his days as a mourning widower. It felt less like reality and more like a bad dream.

Kagami wished the world would slow down, if only a little. That would give him a chance to breathe and figure out what to do next, but that didn't happen. The storm kept coming: striking down the innocent and destroying their fortitude. And there, sniffling behind her mother, was his firstborn. "Azami…"

Azami's lip began to quiver, so she bit it in the hopes of holding it in place. "You…figured it out?"

"Of course I did—and it's a good thing that I did. What if I made it all the way to the battlefield with these?"

"I thought…" The five-year-old still refused to look him in the eye, so she glanced out the window. "I thought you'd figure out by the gate or something. Then you'd change your mind and come back."

"Do you at least understand why I have to go?" To him, it was important that she understand the reason behind the mission. Azami was his eldest. She'd have to be a big girl for her mother and her little sister, not to mention the baby. That baby could be born any day now.

But all she did was shake her head. "Don't," she pleaded. "Just stay. Someone else can go. Torifu-_oji_'s strong. He doesn't need—"

'_Was it this hard for Morirama to leave his baby girl behind?_' Azami wasn't able to hide her tears, but Kagami could. Even in front of his wife, best friend, and child, he could hold it in. "You're wrong, love. He does need me. I'm gonna watch his back and make sure he comes home. And don't worry, alright? He'll do the same for me. You heard him promise your mother that."

But pretty words weren't what Uchiha Azami wished to hear. She just wanted her father to stay; fate of the village be damned. Some things simply didn't make sense to small children. "You don't _have_ to go!" she insisted. "You can choose to stay if you want! He'll…he'll be…"

His wife sighed. "You should probably leave now. I'll hold her."

But the pleas turned into full sobs as the girl's face turned red and puffy from all the tears. She reached desperately, screaming and begging him not to go. "IT'S NOT FAIR!" she bawled. "YOU LOVE _OJI-SAN _MORE THAN YOU LOVE US!"

"No, he doesn't."

Everyone turned around to see the final member of the retrieval party had arrived. Since his argument with Kagami at the memorial service, Danzō said very little to either of his teammates. Despite that, here he stood in his battle garb: ready to leave. "Your father loves you very much, but he has to think about the village first and foremost."

Azami stared at him as if he'd uttered a blasphemy. She reached in her pocket for a shuriken and threw it with surprisingly good aim. Torifu caught it, realizing a bit too late that while Kagami had the toys, _Azami_ managed to get her hands on the real deal.

…

Perhaps the world was ready to move on, but a grieving mother never could. Every morning, Mito vowed to wake up at the crack of dawn, replace the offerings at the family shrine, and burn her incense until the whole of her home smelled the way it did when it wasn't full of hungry ghosts.

If it smelled familiar, then maybe she could call Morirama's spirit home. If he couldn't be given proper funeral rites and his body put to rest, then at least he could haunt her. Maybe then she'd feel a little less lonely. With a spirit inside herself already, Mito could serve as a vessel for her son's unfinished life.

Her entire existence felt empty, save for her granddaughter. In a few more months, Hasu would bring the second grandchild into the world. Maybe then she'd have another prince to shower with love and attention, but this had almost been the final blow to Mito's fortitude. It didn't feel fair, knowing she'd live long enough to hold Morirama's son when he'd never see that baby: not through any eyes other than a ghost's eyes.

But through her, he could still see his children grow. He would see what kind of a son he and Hasu brought into this world. And if Mito could will herself to live this long, Morirama would see one of his children take the Hokage seat.

She'd tried to take it when Hashirama died, only to be brought down by her own brother-in-law. Morirama tried to go for the seat, but conceded his loss like a gentleman. But within a year's time, Hiruzen would be training Tsunade. If this passed from teacher to student someday, then maybe…maybe…

'_But that's not as important as Tsunade's happiness. I need to do all I can to ensure she's safe and happy._' Even as Hasu fell into a deep depression and couldn't be coaxed out of bed. Even when the Yamanaka Clan made matters far from easy for the poor dear…

Morirama's photo stood just left of the center of the mantelpiece: adjacent to his father in the family shrine. '_I'll find a way to send you home,_' Mito thought, giving her son's photo a kiss on the cheek. '_I don't know how, but—_'

The reverie would have continued indefinitely, had Biwako not sneezed and startled Mito. The Uzumaki woman's heart fluttered in surprise. "Sorry, sensei! Should I come back later?"

"It's alright, Biwako," Mito insisted. "I was just leaving an offering and trying to appease my son's wandering spirit." He'd remain trapped between this world and the next: unable to let his troubles go. Whether he decided to fade into nothing or come back as someone (or something) else, he couldn't do it if the Hidden Cloud continued to dissect and study him like a laboratory specimen.

And as much respect as she carried for the Sarutobi Clan, Mito felt as though Hiruzen had failed her by agreeing to let her son go on that mission. Everyone died. There were no survivors. Was there something malicious going on, or was he just incompetent: too young and inexperienced to effectively rule?

"Does that actually work?" Biwako seemed skeptical. "Burning incense and leaving food for ghosts?"

"I don't know." Mito put out one of the burners and fanned the fragrant air through the room with a fan. "But it makes me feel like less of a failure to my children. There's that, at least." She gestured toward all three photographs, plus her late husband's. "It's the only way I can still talk to them."

"Do they ever talk back?" And for this, all the redhead could do was slowly shake her head. "Mito-_sensei_, I_ can_ come back later."

"Why?" Mito gestured for Biwako to take a seat across from her in the parlor. "You already made the trip here. We may as well talk. What's on your mind, Biwako?"

They'd had such a warm relationship throughout Biwako's girlhood and adolescence. Now, as a young adult, she was starting to fear that this warmness had turned glacial. Mito kept her at a distance. "Firstly, I wanted to tell you that Hiruzen's agreed to send a squad to bring your son's body home for a proper burial. Danzō's team volunteered for the mission. I'm really sorry for your loss, and I know that nobody in Konoha could bring Morirama back to life, but maybe—"

Mito's eyes narrowed. It felt like too little too late. Tobirama had seen this side of her countless times as he turned friend after friend against her: driving her deeper and deeper into social exile. Maybe she'd been wrong; maybe Hiruzen was more Tobirama's student than Hashirama's after all. "You're taking his side, then? I shouldn't be too surprised, seeing as you're going to marry him."

"I was going to tell you. It's why I—"

"Considering how much of a lover your future husband is, children are inevitable…whether they're yours or not. My greatest prayer for you, my dear, is that neither you nor Hiruzen outlive them." Mito knew her words had pierced her pupil's heart, judging from how pale Biwako's skin turned. _Good_. These were ugly truths she would need to hear as someone about to marry a Hokage. "And you're wrong about something. There was once a person who could have brought my son back."

Not that Mito would ever wish for it. By this point, Tobirama was so badly decomposed that even if she were to bribe Hasu to read his brain and glean whatever jutsu she could from his memories, she'd get nothing. The brain was one of the first things to rot. And how long would it be before her son's brain did the same? Why did such horrible thoughts keep coming back to her?

"Sensei…" Biwako bit her lip. "I didn't mean to upset you with this. I thought you'd feel some relief in knowing Hiruzen won't stand for letting your son stay with the Hidden Cloud. He deserves to be put to rest."

"He deserved to _live_," Mito growled, nails scratching the sleek finish of her chair until the pale phylum became apparent. Just as she'd felt the pangs of the kyūbi within her before, she felt it again. The energy caused her stomach to twist into knots: eating away at her sanity and ability to control it. One part of her was tempted to break the seal on purpose and destroy everything. Had the grandchildren died, too, she certainly would have. "But you had nothing to do with that. I'm taking my anger out on the wrong person, aren't I? Forgive me."

Biwako bowed to indicate she understood and forgave her teacher, but it wasn't so simple. What she heard was more than just a mother's grief. '_Hiruzen said Morirama's death was a result of choosing the wrong village based off limited intel. He made an honest mistake, and it wasn't like he went on his own. The fact Danzō's team, the best team Hiruzen can send, is going to collect the body means he thought highly of sensei's son.'_

"Sensei? You don't blame Hiruzen for this, do you?" For a brief moment, Biwako saw a flash of something hateful and feral in Mito's rust-colored eyes: something that could barely be classified as human. It flickered away as quickly as it came and Mito's expression softened, albeit in a sad, defeated way.

"No. Sometimes, these things happen. I understand that." Mito placed a hand to her face and sighed. "I've been left alone with my thoughts as I grieve, with only the thing inside me to talk to. The things it says, Biwako dear. You'd start to wonder, too."


	15. The Wound that Festers Forever

**As soon as the Konohagakure Ninja Academy was ready to accept its first class of students, Kagami's father had rushed to sign him up. "You have such an opportunity here!"**

**"I do?" Every Uchiha in history had learned jutsu and how the shinobi world worked from either a parent or another member of the clan. He greatly admired his father and wanted to be a proud and powerful Uchiha, just like him. Would an Inuzuka sensei manage to help him accomplish that?**

**Deep down, a part of the boy wondered if this was simply a novelty program: another attempt to force the clans together and turn allies into artificial friendships. He didn't recognize a single name on his list of classmates: just their surnames. Some of those surnames didn't leave him feeling very comfortable, either. There were three Senju in the class, along with a Nara and a handful of other clans he'd only ever recognized as enemies of the Uchiha.**

**"Because I'd rather train and learn under you, ****_otou-san_****. I don't know what Unubore-****_sensei's_**** going to be like."**

**The building approached: a large, wooden structure with the fire symbol proudly displayed at the banner. A hand-painted sign sat on a sandwich board outside. ****_Greetings, First Class of Konohagakure Ninja Academy! You're about to make history! _****Kagami's nose wrinkled a bit at that, but he didn't say anything. **

**"Do you want me to go inside with you?" The question surprised Kagami, since it was the first time he'd heard any anxiety over this arrangement from his father. Deep down, the man still worried that something horrible could happen to his child. He'd be surrounded by traditional enemies. Chances were he'd probably even battled against the parents of some of Kagami's classmates.**

**So the best Kagami could do was smile and reassure him everything would be fine, even if he didn't believe it himself. "There's no need. I'll be okay." And that seemed to be Konoha's entire attitude: fake everything until it felt real. If he pretended he wasn't scared, then maybe he wouldn't be.**

**But if that were a valid way to approach life, then why did walking down the academy hallway feel like going into battle? He clutched his bag of school supplies a bit tighter, walking faster to make it past the other people in the hall. A Nara here, a Senju there…**

**It almost became a morbid game of trying to guess who belonged to what clan. Some, like the Hyūga and Yamanaka, were obvious. Others, not so much. A pair of boys were running down the hall: racing each other to see who made it to the classroom first.**

**'****_They're completely unafraid. Maybe I should be, too._****' Taking one last deep breath, Kagami marched into the classroom and found each seat had a piece of paper with a name at its corresponding desk. To his relief, his desk was on the back left with a window view of the playground. From here, he could see everyone and the other students would really need to crane their necks to see him.**

**The floors groaned a little when the boy assigned to his right made it up the stairs. '****_He's huge!_****' Kagami's eyes went wide because he was fairly sure this kid—obviously an Akimichi—had at least twenty kilos on him. **

**Apparently, he hadn't been subtle about staring. The boy narrowed his tiny black eyes at Kagami and frowned. "What?" All the Uchiha did was squeak and try to unpack his things.**

**More kids came into the room. Some were being friendly with each other, like the two boys who raced to the classroom. Others, not so much. The Hyūga boy in their class had already managed to pick a fight and wipe the floor with his Utatane desk-mate. **

**At the front of the classroom, a paunchy Inuzuka man with an equally fat dog made his way to the podium and blew a loud whistle. The whole room fell into silence and all the children silenced themselves. "I know a lot of you are wondering why I assigned seats. It's to get you better acquainted with kids from other families. You're not your parents. You're not living in your parents' world. You're living in the golden age of shinobi, children! These aren't your old enemies, but your new friends."**

**"Called it," Kagami grumbled.**

**"I'll start by introducing myself. I am Unubore of the Inuzuka Clan, and this is Yokoito: my canine partner of five years." The dog barked and happily wagged his tail. A couple of girls in the back cooed over the animal, calling him cute. "For most of the morning, I want you to talk to a kid from another clan and get to know each other. Let's break barriers, kids. That's what we're here for!"**

**Almost immediately, Kagami watched as the two racing boys went back to excitedly chattering to each other. The brown-haired one was talking so fast that it was hard to read his lips. The fact he accentuated his words with bombastic gestures made the whole thing almost comedic—or at least funny enough for his black-haired friend to roll his eyes and gesture at the rest of the class. '****_He acts like a monkey._****'**

**"So…" the Akimichi boy murmured a few things under his breath Kagami didn't catch. "You're an…Uchiha, right?"**

**"And you're an Akimichi?" When the boy nodded, Kagami felt a bit better. "I kind of figured with the big build that would be the case."**

**"Other ninjas can't be fat?" the boy quipped back. "I saw your clan head's daughter before. She isn't exactly dainty."**

**He supposed that was fair. Kazusa was a butterball. "Sorry. It's just that all I know about your clan is that they're fat, eat a lot, and can temporarily super-size some of their body parts." But judging from the way his desk-mate looked at him, Kagami couldn't shake the feeling they were probably going to duke it out in the playground after this and fight for real.**

**"And all I know about yours is that they're fire-breathing maniacs who copy other people's jutsu." Oh wow. That was even more harsh! "Did I get that wrong?"**

**"Yeah, by a ****_lot_****!" So that was the point of the exercise, wasn't it: to see the people instead of the stereotypes? "I'm Kagami, by the way."**

**"Torifu."**

**…**

**By recess time, most of the boys and girls in Unubore-****_sensei_****'s class came to the same conclusion: their parents had the wrong idea about these other families. "That didn't take long," Torifu murmured as he nibbled on an apple. He had a second one in his bag, which he offered to Kagami. The Uchiha boy delightfully accepted it.**

**"What didn't?"**

**"Everyone was on guard when we came in this morning. Now they're fine." Well, for the most part. Hyūga Taiyō was still acting like an entitled ass, but some people couldn't be helped. "I think everybody's going to go home with a new best friend."**

**"I think I have," Kagami admitted, nudging his shoulder to Torifu's. The Akimichi laughed and took another hearty bite of his snack. "Unless you mind, that is. If so, then—"**

**"Hey there!" It was a different kid this time: the brown-haired boy who ran down the hall earlier. "I'm trying to start a tag game, but only Danzō's agreed to play so far." Kagami assumed Danzō was the black-haired kid rolling his eyes at his friend in the background.**

**Kagami turned toward Torifu. "How about it? Wanna play?"**

**He didn't even have to ask. Torifu was already getting up and heading over there. This other boy, Hiruzen, managed to round another eight kids into joining in on the fun. By the time the bell sounded and it was time to return to the classroom, Kagami was out of breath and had been "it" a total of four times. People just kept tagging him.**

…

And if he couldn't be Torifu's tag-team on a mission like this, then who could? Most days, he felt like the only person who genuinely cared what happened to him. As many times as Danzō had been disappointed with how things turned out, Kagami had never been disappointed in his team. They had a great dynamic once, and he'd been right. In many ways, they did outperform the Hokage's team.

The only one of them who continued to see their squad forever in second place was Danzō. Ambitious, high-aspiring Shimura Danzō: forever chasing Hiruzen's shadow in the hopes of being seen as the best at something, _anything_. The older they became, the more Kagami started to see that side of Danzō as pathetic, even a tad pitiable.

Were his insecurities really so bad that he always had to compare himself? He'd seen for himself how badly Danzō took rejection, but nothing topped that moment after the battle with the Kinkaku Squad. If he closed his eyes for too long, he'd remember the corpses and how Danzō stabbed each one, asking like a maniac if anyone was still alive.

Torifu told him what happened to that girl and how she died a horrible death in Torture & Interrogation. Leave it to Danzō to pick a weak and impressionable child: anyone or anything that could make him look strong and frightening. But also leave it to Danzō to act weak and remorseful if his plans fucked up. He wanted all the credit when things went his way, yet played it off like it was all out of his hands when things soured.

For the past four nights, it had been warm enough that the men could get away with sleeping without a fire. This also meant Torifu and Kagami could stay as far away from Danzō as made sense for a mission. They only talked to each other, only answering his questions with a word or two if he asked one. They'd let him lead this, as Hiruzen made it sound like he'd indeed be leading, but both expected failure.

Worse than that, they expected sabotage. If he could do it to an innocent woman he barely knew, then he could certainly do it to a pair of men who rebuked him in public.

"How upset do you think Hiruzen would be if we fragged him?" Kagami whispered to Torifu. "We've both seen more than mere warning signs from Danzō. This is getting out of control. First, the girl. Then your wife. Then Morirama. Now this."

"You can't talk like that. That's _treason_. I just committed it by not killing you on the spot for thinking it! You heard Hiruzen. Like it or not, that thing that used to be our friend is our second-in-command. If we come back to Konoha without him, we're fucked."

Kagami tried to get a better look at what Danzō was doing. He'd gone into the woods. A faint rustling noise was soon accompanied by a light thump and the groan of a dying animal. Danzō crouched over, picking something up. Once he was upright again, Kagami saw him return to camp with a dead rabbit in hand. Once he found a clear area, he began skinning the creature.

"I don't know how you plan to eat that," Kagami told him, "because I'm not using a _katon_ to cook it for you."

"The only rations we have left are those nasty bouillon cubes," Danzō replied coldly. "If you'd rather sip watered-down broth until you die from malnutrition on this mission, that's your prerogative. _I'm_ not going to starve."

For the next two hours, Danzō attempted to set a fire using nothing but sticks, but they were too damp to be of any use. Had it been daytime, he could have used the sun and his magnifying lens to ignite some kindling; but that wouldn't be for another six to seven hours.

The only creatures that dined that night were some lucky rats and ants.

…

**They sat in their pre-selected genin groups: proud first graduates of the Konohagakure Ninja Academy. Each genin in the room was anxiously awaiting to find out who would be in charge of their growth as shinobi. Some rather important names appeared on the list—such as Senju Toka, Uchiha Hikaku, Sarutobi Sasuke, Yamanaka Osamu, and Uzumaki Mito—but one name rang higher than the others.**

**Rumor had it that the Hokage planned to mentor a genin team, with his brother serving as his backup on busier days. For a new shinobi, studying underneath the Hokage would be a dream come true.**

**Kagami's father had voiced a lot of interest in making sure his son would be one of those students, even though he continued to voice his dislike for the Senju Clan at home. An opportunity was still an opportunity, and that one was a sure-fire way to guarantee more people saw the Uchiha Clan as powerful and influential.**

**Personally, the Uchiha boy didn't care which jōnin mentored his group or who the third genin on his squad was. He was simply happy to have his best friend on his team. Finding out he and Torifu were paired together was a relief. As nice as some of the other kids in the class were, those bonds were nowhere near as strong.**

**He and Torifu went camping together in the wilderness and kept each other awake late at night with horror stories of the old days. The woods used to be a place where people lost their minds and killed themselves. There was an old shrine hidden somewhere among the trees where travelers were allegedly safe from the monsters lurking in the wild.**

**They'd stayed at each other's homes a few times. Torifu was blown away by the intensity of the Uchiha Clan's fire release, but that was nothing compared to the might of the Akimichi Clan. After watching Torifu's mother punch a wall into granite, Kagami was inclined to agree. **

**Torifu was going to be a powerhouse someday, maybe even a future Hokage. Kagami was delighted to be in on the action and was sure that their third teammate, Shimura Danzō, would come around to the same realization later. **

**For now, their third member seemed more than a little disappointed that he wouldn't be sharing a team with his best friend. He kept turning his gaze over toward Hiruzen, who looked equally bored by Koharu and Homura. Out of the corner of his eye, Kagami saw Hiruzen whisper two words to Danzō: ****_miss you_****.**

**'****_Being partnered off with us isn't exactly the end of the world. Get over yourself._****' Kagami nudged Danzō in the ribs lightly with an elbow and gave him his friendliest smile. "You got a better group than he did," he whispered. "Nobody on his squad has a ****_kekkei genkai_****."**

**"I don't have one, either," Danzō reminded Kagami.**

**"Yeah, but both of us do. I even managed to awaken my sharingan!" Though everyone knew why. They had still been in Academy when the kyūbi went on the rampage…and the head of Kagami's clan tried to destroy Konoha. The Uchiha were in far from the village's good graces these days. And although Kagami had nothing to do with Madara's actions, he saw a flicker of fear and hesitation on his new teammate's face.**

**Kagami took a deep breath, hoping he wasn't making matters even worse. Danzō had been so impressive in assessments earlier that Kagami had briefly forgotten that his wind release—which was rare in its own right—wasn't a ****_kekkei genkai_****. Then he brought up that he had the same eyes as Madara, in effect. Danzō had seen a classmate die that day.**

**"And Torifu's really strong. You're on a powerhouse team, okay? And your ranking was second in the class. You scored better than us!"**

**At long last, there it was: a faint smile. "You're right. I think the three of us will accomplish more." But Kagami noted something else: Danzō's nails were badly chewed. Just how anxious was he over this? "Out of all the groups Unubore-****_sensei_**** called out, ours is almost overpowered compared to the others. It probably means the Hokage plans to choose us. How would you feel about that?"**

**"Hm?"**

**"Considering your clan's history with the Hokage's, I mean. How would your family react it if you came home with a Senju mentor? There's also a chance it could be the Hokage's cousin…or wife…"**

**"Considering my father isn't ****_Madara_****, I think he'll take the news with grace."**

**"Mine are hoping we get stuck with Osamu or Sasuke," Torifu informed the other two, wanting to redirect the conversation before it got any more awkward. "Considering what happened to the Yamanakas and Naras in the class, that means Hiruzen and I each have an equal chance of getting stuck under Osamu. Maybe us more than him, because I doubt he'll get stuck under his own father."**

**"Sasuke-****_sama_****'s pretty great," Danzō confessed. "I've known him since I was little. He's a magnificent jōnin, an honorable clan head, and Hiruzen adores him." Kagami could tell there was a bit more Danzō wanted to say there, such as admitting he wished his own father were more like Sasuke, but Danzō didn't elaborate. "I wouldn't mind studying under him."**

**'****_I bet you wouldn't,_****' Kagami thought, trying to hide a smirk. '****_It would mean you'd see more of your best friend._****'**

**Unubore trotted back into the classroom with a scroll in hand. "Alright, kids. Alright. Sit down and we'll begin! Just because I hate suspense, I'm going to go ahead and call out the Hokage's team first. Once your number is selected, you may leave and meet your instructor outside. Team Hashirama/Tobirama will be…"**

**This was it. Kagami leaned forward in his seat. Torifu kept eyeing the door with suspicion. Both could hear the light clicking sound of wet, chewed fingernails being snapped apart and pulled by young teeth. **

**"…Team Alpha."**

**The chewing stopped. They were Team Beta.**

**…**

One last chill from winter hit the ground, making it too cold to sleep without a fire. At long last, Kagami needed to tend to the needs of the whole group rather than just Torifu and himself. All three men sat around the glow, trying to warm the numbness out of their hands.

"Think you could find another rabbit?" Torifu asked.

"I think I can manage more than that," Danzō replied. "These woods are ideal for deer." All three stomachs growled, Kagami's most of all. "We could have had meat three days ago, if somebody wasn't acting so petty."

"_Woooooow_. You're accusing somebody _else_ of being petty? What a world we live in!" Kagami sat his chin on his knees and continued to curl up, watching his flames grow higher and higher. "You know, in my clan, we never leave someone behind. If an Uchiha dies on the battlefield, we light them like a candle until nothing but ash remains."

He saw concern on Torifu's face, but they were all starving. Tonight was the last of the bouillon cubes. Beyond that, any other sustenance they had until they purchased supplies in a town would have to come from the wilderness. Kagami had never felt this close to death before.

"I just wonder, if the ANBU did that to their own, we never would have gotten into this mess." His eyes drearily turned toward Danzō. "Don't you agree? Shouldn't your program start doing that? Leave no trace behind?" But now it was Danzō's turn to be silent. All Kagami got from him was a slow nod and a cough. "You're still cold?"

"Cold…hungry…wondering if we're just waiting for the inevitable and going to die from starvation…" He got up after that, staggering into the woods.

Kagami reached for a kunai, thinking this was the perfect moment. Torifu stopped him once again. "Why are you defending this piece of shit?" he whispered. "He killed your wife. And I can't shake the feeling that something even worse is going to happen if we keep him around. He's not our friend anymore, Torifu. He's—"

"He's still our teammate," Torifu reminded Kagami. "I'll never forgive him for what he did. My friendship with him may have run its course, but that won't stop me from being able to work with him. I'd rather have the both of you alive than see Danzō dead and you tried for treason. Do you understand me, Kagami?"

True to his word, Danzō came back with a buck: young enough to only have a couple of buds on its skull. Torifu got up, reaching for his sharpest knife. "You caught it. I can clean it. Kagami?"

"…go ahead. Use the damn fire."

…

**Just as they had been the first class to attend the Academy, they were also the first group of youths to participate in the Chūnin Exams. The other great nations had set up villages and schools of their own, complete with the same one-jōnin-to-three-genin platform for introductory teams.**

**It was a chance to prove themselves as elite on a grander scale. The exam was supposed to be a war on a smaller scale: a chance for the other villages to see what Konoha was capable of and win honor for home. Many Daimyo agreed to watch the matches, curious to see what the many allied clans could do.**

**But more importantly, several representatives of the different clans came to observe. Clan heads, parents of participants, family friends: Kagami saw a large turnout on his side and happily waved. Getting this far hadn't been easy. The written test questions were intentionally difficult, but at least his team managed to pull through. **

**It had been a closer call for the Hokage's team. Although Homura left the written test with the top score, he hadn't helped his teammates and simply allowed them to continue struggling. Koharu's aggravation over her teammate's selfishness was so obvious and disruptive that the whole team was almost pulled from the test. Kagami had a feeling Danzō would have preferred that, seeing as Team Hashirama/Tobirama and Team Osamu were the only two Konoha teams to proceed to the combat round.**

**"I was worried this would happen," he told Torifu as they grabbed food from one of the vendor carts set up outside the stadium. "Until Danzō beats Hiruzen in a match, it's never gonna be over."**

**The Akimichi rolled his eyes. "He really needs to take a deep breath and get over it already. Sarutobi's in a category of his own." Go figure they weren't going to watch his match, but Danzō was. Even from the bottom level, next to the food carts, they could see him watching with wide eyes in the front row. **

**When Kagami squinted, he could see a delighted smile on Danzō's face. "Huh. He never smiles like that when we're around."**

**"Holy shit. He ****_smiles_**** around you?" Torifu snorted a laugh and went back to his seat. "Come on. Let's be good friends and watch."**

**He and Kagami both had already fought their matches and lost. Torifu's match gave the Kirigakure genin who fought against him, a Hozuki, a strong advantage. The Akimichi's juggernaut tactics and heavy Taijutsu couldn't do much of anything to some asshole who kept turning himself into a human puddle. As for Kagami, he'd been knocked down by a girl from Iwagakure who moved so fast his sharingan couldn't keep up with her. She'd hit him so strongly in the lungs that he lost his breath and felt a couple of ribs crack.**

**Danzō had yet to fight, but the odds weren't looking so great. Only a handful of other participants hadn't fought yet, and none of them looked like they'd be easy.**

**"Hey. We thought we'd keep you company." But Kagami noted just how much of his teammate's attention was diverted to Hiruzen's fight. Danzō didn't even hear him. In that moment, that entire arena may as well have been empty because all that registered to Danzō were Hiruzen, Hiruzen's opponent, and himself. It was actually a little cute to watch. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you had a little man-crush," he teased. Danzō said nothing this time. He was entranced.**

**At first, Hiruzen appeared to be doing well, even though his opponent was nearly twice his weight and most of that was raw muscle. He moved quicker, but things took a turn for the worst when he twisted his ankle and landed in one of his enemy's set traps. The whole audience gasped, Danzō included. **

**"Looks like your luck ran out, golden boy," Hiruzen's opponent gruffed, reaching for a sword. The boy tried to move away, but it hurt to use his right leg. The sword glistened and gleamed in the light, soon crackling with an electrical current. "Prepare to have it run out forever. If I off one of the Hokage's students, I'm ****_set_****."**

**"Shit," Torifu hissed. "He can't—Danzō? Danzō! What the hell are you doing?!"**

**Before Torifu or Kagami could stop him, their teammate jumped into the arena in an attempt to help his friend. It ended up being as close to a battle as Danzō managed to have in the exam, seeing as that kicked him out of the running…and blacklisted him the following time.**

**Everyone else passed the following summer. He had to wait until winter.**

…

"The Raikage is recovering from the plague in a hideout three kilometers from here." Danzō pointed westward. "I used my summon last night to try to find signs of human activity. We may be looking at as many as twelve opponents."

"Those are four-to-one odds," Torifu remarked. "_Fuck_."

"That's assuming we make our presence known. If we're discrete, then maybe we can sneak in and grab the body without anyone noticing." Kagami was hopeful, perhaps too much so. It was clear that neither Danzō nor Torifu thought that was even remotely possible. "What's next, then? Barging in and causing a ruckus?"

"My vote goes for a bait and switch." Both men turned toward Danzō, curious to see what he was proposing. "I've been placing a delayed-activation genjutsu seal on some of the trees as we pass. Once activated, everything within range will turn silent, odorless, and pitch black. They won't be able to hear each other or see each other. If we keep the counter-seal on us," and as if to demonstrate, he rolled up his sleeve to show a mark, "we'll be able to pick them off without any problems."

"It's kind of a dick move," Kagami confessed, "but it could work. How many more seals do you need in order to complete the trap?" Danzō held up four fingers. "Okay. Good. That sounds doable, so long as we lay low until it's done."

But they had overlooked one thing. Just because there were twelve shinobi on the horizon, that didn't mean the shinobi were from the Hidden Cloud. A few steps further and Kagami's eyes caught sight of a flicker of chakra. It started small, then rushed like a bolt of lightning. "Danzō, hold back! That's a—"

There had been one mistake in Danzō's calculations and one that he miscalculated from the very beginning. The twelve shinobi sensed earlier weren't Kumo shinobi, but _Iwa_ shinobi. The earth split itself wide open: vomiting up weapons, dirt, and demolished trees in a rushed explosion. Sharp shards of metal and wood rushed at the group, who only had a moment's notice to move.

And the last time such an attack had come at Danzō, he'd frozen momentarily in terror. Kagami wasn't sure why his feet moved, considering how angry he still was with his teammate, but he took one last moment to knock him out of the way. Another bomb went off, sending them nearly a hundred and fifty meters apart.

A chain reaction went off, one after the other. Boom. Boom. _Boom_. The entire forest fell apart, turning into nothing but destroyed trees and dead animals. Kagami smelled burned flesh and could taste the metallic cloy of blood in his mouth. If he opened his mouth, he heard nothing…nothing but that horrid, _horrid_ ringing.

'_Where are they…?_' He decided in that moment that if all three of them came out of this alive, he could drop his aggression and work civilly with the rest of the team. He and Torifu could pretend he never made those remarks about Danzō, and Danzō never had to know. They'd never be friends again after what happened, but, '_Please…please, let them both be alright…_'

The smoke was so thick that he could barely breathe. Kagami tried to call out, but could neither hear nor breathe. Dust and debris choked him as he gasped and coughed. Yet apparently the coughing helped him with his damaged ears, because he could finally hear Danzō. Nothing he said made any sense, but at least he could hear him and see him.

That's when Kagami felt something warm and sticky behind him. At first, he suspected pine sap. When he reached to touch it, he realized to his own horror it was his blood. His head had taken a terrible blow. Further down, a searing pain in his back refused to go away. His feet felt asleep.

The worst of it was in the front. His armor was annihilated, along with his shirt and undershirt. Ribs were jutting out, threatening to puncture and collapse a lung if he made a wrong move.

Kagami attempted to move his toes, only to realize he couldn't. That's when the wet, nasty gasps began. "Danzō…" He reached with his arm, only to flop over like a rag doll. Kagami was too weak to sit upright again.

But Danzō heard him. He slowly limped over, then froze. Kagami wasn't sure what exactly he expected his teammate to do, considering he had occasional flighty and impulsive moments, but Danzō just stared. His mouth was slightly open and aside from a wound on his leg that bled rather badly, he was no worse for the wear.

With Kagami's gasps came a rattling sound. He'd kept a photograph of his family beneath his shirt, only for a torn part of it to become lodged in his burned, bloody, mangled chest. Danzō retched, but didn't manage to vomit. He composed himself enough, though still hyperventilating, and pulled the picture away.

Kagami grimaced. It hurt terribly. "Give it back…" he gurgled. Danzō was already strung out on adrenaline and that didn't help. Kagami may as well have tried to kill him for the amount of panic his words gave his teammate. "Give it back…"

"Kagami…" His voice stammered. "Don't move. _Don't_ move! I need to find something to staunch the bleeding until we can get you to a medic."

Where? Was he out of his goddamn mind? They were in the middle of nowhere, near Iwa's _Explosion Corps_. Apparently the Tsuchikage didn't die in Morirama's ambush after all. Where would they find a medic? The enemy camp? "You're—"

"…yeah. I'm hurt, too. But it's just my leg. You need to hang in there and—"

"KAGAMI? DANZŌ?" Torifu was roaring as loud as he could, trying to find them. Kagami couldn't see him.

Then again, with how rapidly his vision was starting to blur, it was a miracle he could still see Danzō. "Get him over here," Kagami rasped. "I don't want your face to be the last one I see."

But Danzō either didn't hear him or didn't heed him. He tore off one of his sleeves, balled it up, and stuffed it inside Kagami's chest to soak up some of the blood. Kagami was too weak to cry out, but the pain was unbearable. At that moment, he wished he'd just go ahead and die.

'_Did that little girl feel like this before we ripped the secrets out of her? Is this what my enemies felt when I killed them? Did the Hokage feel this when he died, all because I suggested a decoy? If so…oh god…I'm so sorry…_'

"Danzō…" _Please_, he wanted to say. _Please get my best friend so I can say goodbye_. It became harder to breathe, harder to think about anything other than his family. He started to fade: hearing Danzō's frantic words in his wife's voice. If she'd been here, she would have screamed and lost her composure by now.

He thought about how loudly Azami screamed when he left: begging and pleading for him not to go. Each breath became harder than the last, despite giving him less and less oxygen. Finally, he couldn't hold his head up any further. As his body turned numb, he flopped over, shoulder pushing Danzō's. Why, of all people…why did it have to be him that he saw last?

He felt Danzō holding his hand, giving it a reaffirming squeeze. But he didn't go for Torifu. He stayed right where he was, giving the closest thing to comfort he'd ever given another human being. It was too little too late. '_I just hope you join me soon,_' Kagami thought as his motor functions began to fail him. As he slid further, his head landed in his teammate's lap.

His memories played through his head as other parts of his body turned numb.

When the village was first founded, one of the higher ups in the Uchiha Clan told Kagami that his father was somebody to be ashamed of, as he'd been the first to kneel before the Senju Clan and admit defeat. He'd told Setsuna that he was wrong, that his father was an admirable man and simply tired of war.

His best friend was an Akimichi, not an Uchiha. While the clan head was far from happy about that and Setsuna called him a dirty little traitor, Kagami felt internally pleased with himself. Unubore-_sensei_'s method of assigning seats and forcing the kids to interact had opened his eyes. He was sure that in time, his father and everyone else would make friends and allies in this wonderful place, too.

His other teammate suffered from anxiety and issues of inferiority: always jealous of a smarter, faster, more talented boy. Kagami tried to reassure Danzō that he was great, too, in his own way. Judging by how Danzō reacted, Kagami was almost certain it was the first time in the boy's life that somebody other than Hiruzen, the focus of his jealousy, ever acknowledged him.

The Uchiha Clan was cast in a bad light again. Madara's name had practically turned into a swear word within the village, considering he betrayed it and went on a bloodthirsty rampage. Kagami was privately relieved the Shodaime could stop him, but that didn't make the funerals of the kids in his class who died from the kyūbi's rampage any less comforting. Kagami was fine with the vicious slurs for a while because he'd spend his life trying to change the way the Uchiha were viewed.

He fell in love with a girl in his own clan, despite never having really noticed her before he got his ass handed to him at the Chūnin Exams. She and Torifu helped him limp to the hospital and sat with him until a medic saw to his injuries. Until that point, he'd hardly paid attention to her at clan meetings and felt bad for asking her to give him her name again, but she did. He was so glad she did.

Kagami and Torifu had talked about getting homes on the same street and being neighbors well into old age. Both their wives loved the idea and when two nice small family homes hit the market, they seized their opportunity. As soon as one house was settled into, they helped with the other one. When it was all over, they poured drinks and sat on the lawn, just to look at the summertime stars. Torifu remarked that he'd like to watch both families unfurl from those homes. That way, they could still be neighbors as cranky old men. Kagami promised that nothing in the world would make him happier.

The Nidaime needed an escort unit to assist his team in watching him during a critical battle. In the end, Kagami failed. It was even his words that led the Hokage to his doom. What horrified him most was a combination of Danzō's fury unleashed on the enemy afterwards and, worse than that, his clan's almost jovial acceptance of the Hokage's death. Torifu reassured Kagami that he hadn't done anything wrong, but Kagami feared the ramifications of his actions all the same.

Maybe the Senju Clan was right about his clan after all. Maybe they _were_ inherently evil.

He noticed an unwelcome change in Hiruzen and Danzō when Hiruzen became Hokage. Hiruzen—who had always been an upbeat, proud, positive man—was finally starting to show his own insecurities. He wasn't some infallible, unshakeable _wunderkind_ like Danzō believed; but an anxiety-addled idealist who understood that if he failed as Hokage, the whole village would suffer for it. And either out of spite or in a genuine attempt to keep Hiruzen's lofty ideals rooted in reality, Danzō fed his paranoia.

Thanks to those two, Torifu would never be a father. Kagami would die before he saw his last child. He felt hot breath on his face: shaky and unsure. He heard Danzō's frantic whispers in his ear, telling him how sorry he felt for doing this; that he really was a wonderful friend, but he had to do it.

Then Kagami felt something sharp stab into his lower eyelid and move, peeling the flesh away like the rind of an orange.

One last burst of adrenaline rushed into Kagami's body, not giving him enough strength to scream, but at least enough to weakly grab at the blade and push it back. "Don't," his mouth weakly gurgled, even though blood replaced the last of his oxygen after that. He said it again, but no air came out, or in.

But with an eyelid gone, he couldn't shut his right eye. It remained wide open forever: stripped bare and exposed to the hot, stinging elements. With his remaining eye, Kagami saw the panic on Danzō's face…as well as an ugly, desperate determination to finish what he started.

'_What the hell is wrong with you!? Did you ALWAYS look at me like that? Were you just waiting this whole time, just so you could take what made me so special?!_'

Whatever strength he had left, Kagami held onto that knife and tried his best to push it away, but it wasn't enough. The pain didn't die down, and it only got worse with the upper lid. There was more tissue there: more muscles to cut. A finger pushed to where his severed tear duct once was and peeled the eye out with enough force to rip the nerves.

Then Danzō began with the second one. For this, he was much faster and far more brutal. The cuts weren't as surgical because Kagami's body was starting to go into shock. The sharingan was stronger when came from a living body rather than a dead one. Kagami twitched and Danzō pushed into him.

He could feel his former teammate on his lap: his own shirt and flak vest soaking up the blood from Kagami's ruined chest. Kagami couldn't breathe. When Danzō pressed, more blood came from the Uchiha's mouth until everything stopped moving. As the world turned black, more from blindness than from his own impending death, the last thing that still registered logically in Kagami's failing brain was Torifu's loud, profane screaming.


	16. Severance (Epilogue)

**_In the entire history of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, very few men have carried both the blessing and curse of being the Hokage's friend. _**

**_I called it a blessing because I was genuinely happy for Hiruzen. As much as it pained me to lose Lord Second in such a violent way, my friend was ready to take over. He doubted himself only in private and put on the best face he could. And until he knew for certain that what he was doing was right, he at least acted like he did so none of the clan heads or old members of the Konoha Assembly would take advantage of his youth._**

**_We did see something close to a golden age through him. The man was full of dreams and ideas on how to turn Konoha into a better place. Perhaps we didn't always agree with him, or perhaps it wasn't in our budget to do so, but he never gave up. _**

**_He was my blessing because I got to be a part of it. Koharu and I were nowhere near as strong as him. Our strengths rested in other things, but he never replaced us with more qualified people. He took care of us: giving us chance after chance until we figured out what a councilor needed to do. _**

**_I was never his best friend, but I believe that worked to my advantage. He could always trust Koharu and me to be honest with him, even when we disagreed with him. And when his successor is named and approved by our Daimyo, then I look forward to guiding the next Hokage to glory with the same honesty and candor._**

**_I call my position a curse only because I saw what Hiruzen's tenure as Hokage did to his best friend. He and Shimura Danzō were closer than any brothers I knew. But years of being second best wore away at Danzō's resolve. Even now, he continues to burn with ambition…but the fuel to feed his Will of Fire has changed. When I first met Danzō, he was motivated by his hopes and dreams. Now he only runs on spite and resentment._**

**_I used to think it was only because he was passed over for the Hokage position not only once, but twice. We didn't consider him at the end of the Third War, either. Nor are we considering him now. Not when there are more powerful and younger shinobi with the potential to lead._**

**_I fear it goes deeper than that, and I fear what he could potentially do. There are entire parts of my former teammate's life I still don't know about, but Danzō does in detail. He knows where all the proverbial bodies are buried. And now that our future is uncertain, I'm a little afraid of what he'll do if we don't nominate him next._**

**_Hiruzen had a gift for diplomacy. One of the first international agreements he managed to convince the Kages to sign was the armistice that ended the First Great Shinobi War. That compromise would be honored for almost ten years of nearly perfect, uninterrupted peace. _**

**_Koharu raised our son in peacetime and managed to navigate him toward a future that would never involve the battlefield, but would always involve the Konoha Council. I have lost count of how many times we have deferred to his expertise on village history to see if there is any precedent to our actions or at least a similar case. So far, two Hokages have used Tohru as a valuable resource in the Village Archives. Our Fifth Hokage shall do the same, whoever he (or she, as Koharu keeps reminding me) turns out to be. _**

**_And we had Hiruzen to thank for all this. When Koharu voiced her worries about the boy becoming a ninja and performing well enough in Academy to justify becoming a genin, Hiruzen personally called in the Academy staff and gave the order to ensure Tohru never graduated…but simply aged out. It's a kindness our sensei never would have considered._**

**_But it wasn't only the two of us that Hiruzen looked out for. Over the years, he covered secret after secret for Danzō so he could live up to his promise of giving him a lifetime appointment in his position. His early mistakes cost us many friends, not just Uchiha Kagami, but Hiruzen refused to give up on him._**

**_As for the whole of the village, Hiruzen's top priority was building alliances and agreements with our neighbors. Sometimes Koharu, Homura, Danzō and I were called to discuss agreements in other nations. While we gained ties with a small nation here or there, Hiruzen prided our signed alliance with Sunagakure the most. We thought we'd succeeded, but this most recent attack indicates the Kazekage had come to resent us. Either that, or he merely trusted Orochimaru more._**

**_And that brings me to his thoughts for the future. Although my former teammate trained three of the strongest shinobi for the next generation, not a one of them turned out the way he'd hoped. Jiraiya is now off doing his own thing, only appearing when he's needed. Tsunade has been missing in action for so long that we only receive the occasional rumor regarding her whereabouts. Upon the death of her grandmother, it was clear she had no more love for this place. And Orochimaru…_**

**_Orochimaru destroyed everything from within. He was Hiruzen's favorite: his bright and talented genius from a broken home. Orochimaru loved to learn and Hiruzen loved to teach. Had he never been nominated as Hokage, he probably would have considered a position at the Academy to build the youth of tomorrow into greater shinobi._**

**_To whoever reads this, I apologize. I realize I'm writing more of my friend's faults down rather than his strengths. _**

**_In short, Hiruzen went into this with the best of intentions and wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty. He had a very special friend by his side to do his dirty work. The three of us remained spotless and the one scandal Koharu and I could have had thrown in our faces—our shared child—Hiruzen covered like a master._**

**_Our blessing was that Danzō was willing to be the dirty one for all of us: our shady friend doing shady things to keep this great machine running. Our curse is that he always wished to come to the light. He knows where every body is buried, every injustice was committed, and every back was stabbed. If we raise him up, all he'll do is push us down._**

**_Danzō knows we aren't nominating him. He didn't even have to ask; he just knows. And I think this is why he couldn't bother to attend the funeral. The whole of the village appeared for this, save the one person I'm certain Hiruzen would have wanted more than anyone else. _**

**_In typical vainglorious fashion, Danzō told me it was because someone had to think of the village's security even during the greatest of tragedies. Koharu believes he couldn't bring himself to see Hiruzen's body. Personally, I think it's spite. Spite's the only thing that man has ever expressed in my presence._**

**_I fear what this next generation is going to bring. One bright light was snuffed out already, but it's not like Hiruzen's there for backup anymore. Whoever we choose, whoever we support…please. For the sake of Konoha, please be strong. And please learn from our failures how not to have the past repeat itself._**

**_Please be a blessing. We've had enough curses to last us a lifetime._**

**_~Mitokado Homura_**


End file.
